Any Way the Wind Blows
by Miss Baby
Summary: When fate brings a jaded young doctor to the small town of Forks, he expects nothing out of his stay but a shot at redemption. Little does he know that a new patient and a mysterious young woman will turn his exile into the experience of a lifetime.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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**0.**

_**Prologue**_

_Outskirts of Forks, Washington, April 2012._

"Fuck! Dammit!" Edward growled, his hands slamming the steering wheel as the tires spun, mud splashing on either side of the car as it got further stuck with every attempt of trying to get it free. "Not now. Not fucking now!"

His heart was racing, his shoulders tensing at the thought of what might happen if he arrived too late. _No, he couldn't think of that. She wouldn't….she wouldn't do that. Not to him. Not to herself. Still…._

There was part of him that couldn't be sure, the part of him that knew what kind of state his girl had to be in, the part of him that felt her pain. For years, the old man had been all she knew and now he was gone…just like the life she had made for herself.

It was that part which made him yank open the door and jump out of his borrowed four-wheel truck, his feet sloshing as they landed into the same puddle that had stopped his progress.

He didn't even notice it, as his whole being focused on finding his way through the woods as he took off in a desperate sprint; wet leaves and branches tearing at his clothes and his pace severely encumbered by the slippery surface. Edward's breath was leaving his lungs in heavy pants of condensed air as he got closer to his destination.

On any other day, Edward would have reveled in the way the wind hollered around the trees and pulled at the ends of his hair, the extra bounce in the leafy forest floor caused never-ending rain making his feet bounce along the track. But on this day the exhilaration he usually felt when running along those well-known paths were completely eaten away by worry.

He'd known it the minute he picked up the phone and heard, not Bella's sweet voice but the cold, distant shrill of the daughter announcing the demise of her father. He'd known it and yet he'd come all the way to the forest house, confirming what in his heart he already knew: she'd vanished.

And there was only one place she could have gone; the one special place that had been the setting of many a nightly meeting between the two of them. Though on those occasions, his heart had been filled with anticipation, lust and an all-consuming love as he sprinted towards her.

Now, there was only fear; a blind, panic that pushed him forward even when his lungs burned and his heart raced out of control. Edward's mind barely registering when a few prickly braches tore gashes into his skin and the thin fabric of his almost soaked through scrubs.

He _had_ to get to her. He _had_ to get to the meadow.

And then he was there, his eyes scanning the clearing for signs of life until he found his girl, her red dress standing out against the twilit forest as she sat, curled up into a ball, rocking her body as her anguished sobs rung through the silence.

"Bella!" he called, his feet taking off again as he jumped over fallen tree trunks in his desperate need to get to her. He only stopped when he had her safely in his arms, her body trembling with cold and emotion as she hung against him like a ragdoll, the lifelessness of this once so strong and vibrant woman shattering his heart. "Fuck, baby, I'm so glad I've found you!"

He pulled away after some time had passed, his arms holding her upright as he looked at her, tenderly swiping the tears from her cheek. "Are you okay? What happened? Talk to me, baby, _please_."

"I…I had to get away," Bella muttered, her voice shaking as bad as her body as her hands moved to wrap themselves around Edward's strong chest in a marmoset hold. "I couldn't stay there….not with him lying there…and _her_…"

"I know," Edward spoke into her hair, his shoulders dropping with relief at having found her safe and sound.

"He's dead, Edward." Finally she lifted her head, her brown eyes distraught as they found his, her body shaking more violently with every gasp of air she drew in. "He's dead and…oh my God, what am I going to do?"

"Listen to me, Bella," Edward spoke, her head between his hands as he forced her to look at him, forced her to _see_. "You're free now. His hold on you…it's ended. You can go anywhere you want." It hurt to speak those words, though not because he begrudged her the freedom that had now finally come, after years of living in captivity. Literally. It was just that his heart broke at even the thought of her leaving him; of a world without her in it. It made his voice hoarse with fear when he spoke, though he did his best to hide it from her, not wanting her to feel obligated to stay with him if she didn't want to.

She _shouldn't_ want to. There was a whole world out there for her to explore and a life to finally be lived doing what she wanted instead of having someone dictate it. She shouldn't want to tie herself down, especially not with a man who still remained half-broken.

"But I-" She bit her lip, her face still betraying the violence of her emotions. "I'm scared. I-I'm scared of losing you. You are all I have right now in the entire world and I…I-I don't want to lose you. It…it would kill me."

"I've got you, sweetheart," he breathed, her skin cool as his lips made contact with it. His shoulders fell with relief as he crushed her slender frame to his, knowing that he felt exactly the same as her. They were joined now, their hold on each other permanent and unbreakable. "I won't let go."

As he spoke the words he knew the truth in them, as he realized he had known all along. He had fought a long and hard battle for her within himself, his family, his boss and even with her. Now that he had her at last and she was finally free, he was never letting her go.

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_**Thoughts?**_

_**Follow me on twitter for updates on my writing and other, random stuff. I'm missbaby25 over there. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

* * *

**1.**

_**The pick-up**_

_Chicago, September 2011._

Though he had been anticipating the sound for most of the night and early morning, the well-known footsteps of Marcus Hansen squeaking down the hall still made Edward's shoulders tense up in alarm.

_It's too soon_, he thought, as his hands rubbed his eyes so strenuously he was seeing stars. _It's too soon. I can't-_

"Masen?" The footsteps had halted in front of his door, the sound replaced by a clear tenor as Marcus knocked on his door. "You in there, man?"

"It's open." Edward sighed, his eyes traveling around the room that had been his home for the past six months one last time before he sat up.

"Your ride is gonna be here in half an hour." Marcus' face peeked around the corner, his slate grey eyes taking in the room with a speed that betrayed his experience. "You wanna come down and say your goodbyes?"

Edward shrugged. "Not really." He'd said goodbye to everyone who mattered the day before and as for the rest… Wasn't the whole point of his being there about breaking out of the habit of telling lies?

"I figured as much." Marcus grinned as he stepped into the room, his eyes rolling over the stuffed duffel bag on the desk before falling to the pathetic figure on the bed. "You look like shit."

In fact, the poor guy looked just as Marcus had expected him to look: scared to death and worn out from a sleepless night. It was how the good ones looked on the day they got out; the ones who were actually going to make it out there.

"Thanks!" Edward tried to smile, though his efforts resulted in nothing more than a slight twitch of the mouth, his nerves slamming through his veins as the minutes kept ticking away on the clock.

"You ready?"

Edward nodded, his stiff, sleep-deprived body protesting as he got up from the bed and grabbed his duffel before following Marcus out of the room.

He never looked back, though, whether that was because he'd been glad to get the hell out of the little bland room, or whether he was afraid if he looked back, it would cause him to be even more wary about the big ass leap he was taking into the real world was unclear. Even to himself.

The sounds of crappy daytime television, in all its many varieties, followed them as they made their way along the corridor. Some of the doors to Edward's former compatriots standing open to reveal similar bland rooms to the one he'd just left. Most of them showing more signs of inhabitance, though; posters or pictures hung to personalize the space and small, cheap rugs and pillows scattered around to make it look a bit more like home.

Edward hadn't bothered with personalizing his room knowing that no amount of decorating could ever make the small, claustrophobic room in the sterile, clinical environment feel comfortable. Besides, he didn't really want to be reminded of what he'd left behind. He was there to learn how to _cope_, not _deal_.

Marcus glanced back as they reached the end of the corridor, seeing the same facial expression he'd seen dozens of times as Edward trudged behind him. _Dread_.

He sighed, knowing from experience how hard it was to leave the security of the clinic for the temptations of the outside world. He'd tried and failed more times than he could count before finally Dr. Adkinson had offered him a full-time position at the clinic. Marcus worked as a liaison between doctors and patients, as well as doing odd jobs around the facility.

To him, it had been the final push to break the habit; his life gaining a new purpose as he changed his old destructive ways, and the empty life he'd left behind, for one in which he could help people do what he'd lacked the guts and the perseverance to ever accomplish. It made him feel good about himself again in a way he'd never even hoped to feel since his first shot of meth.

He'd never looked back, but that didn't mean he hadn't known how the cocky young guy behind him was feeling. "This place is gonna miss you, man," he said, patting Edward on the back as he moved past him into the clinic's lobby. _Halfway to freedom. _

Edward snorted, Marcus' sappy remark breaking the tension that had settled into his bones somewhere halfway though his sleepless night. "No offense, but I won't miss a damn thing about this place," he lied, shrugging apologetically before muttering the truth like some sort of afterthought. "Except maybe for the company."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "What did I tell you, bro? Never fucking lie to me!"

"Okay, okay." Edward surrendered, the tension leaving his shoulder as he laughed – genuinely laughed – for the first time in months. "There's nothing I'm gonna miss about sharing a room with a guy who thinks he's stealthy enough to jack off under the blankets when he thinks I'm asleep or crazy Pete trying to steal my dessert, but I swear – honest to God – that I'm going to miss you."

"Well, who would'da known?" the older man grinned smugly, holding the front door open as they walked out, making it all seem like no biggie. As if it wasn't a big step. A huge momentous step even. "One day they walk in here all cocky and aggressive, saying 'fuck off I don't need your help' and a couple of days later, you're going all girly on me? Wha'da you wanna do now? Exchange friendship bracelets and braid my hair or something?"

"I think I'll pass," Edward snorted. Even if Marcus' greasy, uncombed shoulder length hair hadn't been in his face, he knew enough about the man's personal hygiene regimen not to get anywhere near his hair without updating his tetanus shots first.

"Out you go." Marcus nodded when Edward, suddenly aware of the distance they'd traveled while goofing around, hovered over the threshold like some kind of furry cartoon character. "Or are you waiting for me to carry you over the threshold, sweetpea?"

Edward shook his head, a few drops of sweat gathering at his hairline as he took in a few deep breaths, just like Dr. Adkinson had taught him. _Deep, cleansing breaths. _They didn't help for shit, though.

"So, this is it, huh?" Edward panted, his feet still refusing to cooperate even though he was inwardly screaming at them to fucking move and get the damned thing over with.

"Do you want me to leave?" Marcus asked, his eyes never leaving their target even though he tried not to make it too obvious he was watching Edward like a hawk.

"Nah." Edward shook his head and, with another deep breath, he finally managed to take that one little step that had been plaguing him for days.

It was the one step Dr. Adkinson had been prepping him for ever since he'd been deemed 'clean' enough to be released back into the big, bad world; the one step, or so the good doctor had stressed, that he had to take on his own, with no –well, almost no – help from the outside world. The one small step for man which would be a big, fucking giant, leap towards getting back his old life again. Or so he hoped.

Edward had spent the better part of the days leading up to this step wondering what it would be like. Would he feel the overwhelming panic the doctor had warned him about, or the sense of being lost after spending so much time in the small little universe of the Lakeside Clinic? Would it be the big catharsis of all those months he'd spent turning himself inside-out in order to 'find himself' -the doctor's words, not his- again?

In reality, however, all Edward felt as he crossed the threshold was a slight drop in the temperature and a draft as a gust of early September wind flew past him. Nothing had changed, except for the fact that he was now on the outside. Emotionally, he still felt exactly the same as he had on the other side of the door.

"Well, this was anticlimactic," he muttered, feeling like a complete loser for having made so much out of apparently nothing.

"It's a first step." Marcus shrugged, lighting up a cigarette since he was outside and young Masen didn't seem to need his assistance anymore.

Edward nodded, his panic resurfaced as he looked around him. _Was he really ready to be out there? What if he fucked up again? He'd never-_

"You'll be fine, McDreamy," Marcus spoke, his big, bear claw hands once again patting Edward's shoulder while Edward wondered how in God's name the old man always seemed to know what he was thinking. "And if you're not, you know where to find me. Day or night."

Edward nodded, patting his jacket pocket to make sure his phone was in there. "Thanks, man. For everything."

Marcus chuckled, knowing that although young McDreamy looked a little greenish at the moment, he would be alright. Cocky young fuckers like him always landed back on their own two feet with a little help from a good doc like Adkinson. Stubborn old goats like him, though…

"I'm just doing my job, kid," he shrugged, toeing his cigarette out as, for a moment, the pressure on Edward's shoulder increased. "Now you go out there and do yours." And with that, he was gone, leaving a freaked out, though he'd never admit to it, Edward behind as he let the front door lock behind him.

Edward didn't have to wait for long, the roar of a classic sports car already heralding the arrival of his pick-up long before the ostentatious red _Ferrari 250_ rumbled into view, the tires squealing as it came to an abrupt stop right next to him.

Edward arched his brow, his lips pulling into a smile as the inhabitant of the car daintily hopped out of the driver's seat. "Don't tell me you blew the entire divorce settlement on this thing?"

Tanya laughed, revealing a perfect row of white teeth as she plucked the expensive, designer sunglasses from her nose. "Nah, I bought this little puppy _way_ before that particular ship came in. I just figured that with the weather finally cooperating, I'd take her out for a spin. You don't mind, do you?"

Edward smiled, shaking his head. "It's a good thing I packed light." Not that it had been intentional. When the shit hit the fan, he didn't have the time to pack a whole lot of stuff before he had to report at the clinic and, with his family and friends not exactly clamoring at the door during visiting hours, he hadn't been able to accumulate the amount of junk some of his fellow 'inmates' had.

"I guess it is," Tanya chuckled, waggling her eyebrows as she popped the tiny trunk, Edward's duffel bag, though small, barely fitting into it. "Now, are you going to stand there and make fun of me and my car all morning, or are you going to say 'hello' like a decent human being?"

Edward's grin widened. "Not that I'm _not_ glad to see you, 'cause I am, but….shit. I'm gone for six months and they send my ex-wife to come and get me? I thought dad hated your guts!"

Tanya beamed back, a huge weight slipping from her shoulders at seeing her old friend returned as opposed to the selfish, out of control asshole she'd dropped of months ago. "What can I say?" She shrugged, quickly snapping her seatbelt in place before tearing off like her life depended on it. "Ever since you decided to 'take a walk on the wild side', I guess I moved up a few places on Senior's shit list."

"Don't get your hopes up too high," Edward huffed, his eyes having trouble keeping up as the scenery flashed by at breakneck speed. "I think I've topped that fucking list since the day I was born. By the way, would you mind slowing down a bit? I'd like to enjoy my newfound freedom a bit before I die."

"Oops! Sorry," Tanya giggled, the roar of the engine slowly simmering down to a muffled rumble as she eased up on the gas. "I'm glad you're back."

She didn't explain her words, nor did she have to, even though being 'back' could mean a multitude of things. Edward _knew_.

"I'm glad to be back," he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the urban scenery as it flew by on their way to plushy Oak Park where his parents lived. "I take it the old man wants to see me before he ships me off to my place of exile?"

Tanya made a great show of rolling her eyes. "Don't be so damn melodramatic!" she huffed. "But yes, I am under strict orders to drop you off at the Masen's house and stand by while you visit with your family, before I pick you up again to drop you off at the airport for your midday flight to Seattle."

Edward sighed, already having expected as much. "At least having limited time means he only has a few opportunities to tell me how much of a disappointment I am."

"He loves you, Edward," Tanya's voice was soft and cautious, as she knew, full well, how thin the ice was that she was skating on.

"If he does, he sure has a funny way of showing it!" Edward smirked, his thoughts going back to the many times he and his father had clashed over the years. Whatever he did or however he did it, it just never seemed to live up to Edward Sr.'s high standards; his grades, his career, his wife, his _life_…

"Do you want to…" Tanya let her voice trail off as they neared the Harlem Avenue/Cermak Road intersection.

"It's…it's too soon. I'm sorry, I…" He shook his head, his breath coming out in panicked gasps as his mind went back to that day, two years ago, when he'd buried his heart at Woodlawn Cemetery. He couldn't go back. _Not now. Not so soon after- _

"It's okay, Edward," Tanya's hand folded around his as she spoke, though it didn't escape Edward's notice how her palm, too, was clammy and trembling as she kept her eyes firmly on the road. "She'll still be there when you're ready."

"I-I've been writing to her. Dr. Adkinson thought it would be a good thing to help me work through some of my…my issues." Even after six months of intense sessions, Edward still had a hard time admitting to the fact that he had some serious issues; the way he'd been brought up ingraining him with a firm notion that weakness was not something to be acknowledged, let alone talked about.

Tanya smiled hopefully before her eyes flittered back to the road. "And is it helping?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes." In truth, over the past months he'd only written to her twice, both times at the good doctor's insistence. For the most part, he tried his damndest not to think about her or what had happened, even though he left like the most miserable of human beings for pushing her to the back corners of his mind. It was the only way he could live, though…the only way he could _survive_.

"Maybe I should give it a go, then." Tanya smiled bitterly, her own grief still as fresh as Edward's, though she'd been dealing it in a very different and less destructive way.

"Yeah." Edward sounded as far away as he felt, his mind sinking back into that state of semi-detachment where he could function without feeling. "Maybe."

The rest of the drive to the Masen's magnificent Oak Park residence passed in a laden silence, both Edward and Tanya lost in their thoughts as the ghosts of their shared past took up post between them.

"We're here," Tanya unnecessarily announced as the driveway gates swung open and the vintage Ferrari roared through the rhododendron lined drive.

Edward nodded, swallowing his reluctance to get up and go into the house, knowing what probably awaited him as the car rolled to a stop. "Come with me?"

She shook her head, forcing a smile onto her lips. "Better not. I don't want to push my luck with Senior now that he finally doesn't seem to hate me as much as he used to," she joked. "You'll be alright. And if you're not…I'll be right here in the car, watiting for you."

"Fuck, I hope so!" he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head as he slammed the car door behind him, the tall white columns that shielded the entrance of his ancestral mansion from the rest of the world seeming even more imposing than they did when he was young.

Edward took a deep breath, trying not to dwell on how much he wanted to crawl back into the car behind him – especially now that Chet Baker's trumpet was blasting his jazz music through the stereo – as he stepped forward, closing the gap between him and the front door just as it opened.

"Edward!" Before he even had the time to think or recognize the person greeting him, he found himself engulfed into an overpowering embrace of abundant perfume and tiny Mexican arms.

"It's good to see you, Carmen," he breathed as the aggressively feminine smell invaded his senses. "How are you?"

"Great as always," she grinned. "You know, one of these days I will get you to call me 'Mom'."

"I did, remember?" he beamed back, relishing in the love of the only person in the world who knew him better than he even knew himself. It felt good to be around her again, like his existence wasn't so hollow or bleak anymore.

"You were two-years-old!" Carmen scolded, playfully swatting his shoulder. "And you almost got me fired for that, remember?"

Edward chuckled, remembering those particular incidents only through the memories of others who never failed to remind him of them. "Speaking of mothers…" he changed the subject, his voice back to a well-practiced indifference. "Is she here?"

Carmen sighed, shaking her head. "Elizabeth is vacationing in Barbados with her driver."

"So, I take it the two of them still haven't had their 'coming out'?" Edward smirked, knowing, as well as anyone did, that his mother's driver also fulfilled a whole different set of services to the first Mrs. Masen than the ones he was contracted to deliver.

"I think she fears what it will do to her income," Carmen shrugged, linking Edward's arm with hers as they crossed the ornate foyer, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

"A fear not altogether unjustified," Edward snorted. Knowing his father, he'd cut her off as soon as she went public with her affair and, knowing his mother, she'd never risk her steady cash flow, even though she didn't really need it. "And Alice?"

Another shake of her head. "She wanted to be here but your father threatened to send her to an all-girl boarding school in Switzerland if she skipped class."

"Why am I not surprised?" Even though he truly wasn't, it was still a disappointment for Edward to be sent away without being able to see and say goodbye to most of his family; his mother because she chose to be elsewhere and his half-sister because she had to be. It was the story of his life.

"I will do my best to have her visit you in Washington as often as she can," Carmen promised, her hand squeezing his, "and I overheard your mother mentioning plans to fly out to Washington for Thanksgiving."

Edward smirked at the thought of having his mother and Esme in close quarters together for more than a few hours. _Now that was a spectacle he was not particularly eager to see!_

Their pace slowed as they neared the far end of the foyer; the place where heavy black double doors gave entrance to his father's sanctuary; the room Edward had only set foot in to be scolded.

"Remember, Edward," Carmen let go of his arm to grab both his shoulders, her fiery dark brown eyes boring into him. "No matter how harsh his actions may be sometimes, your father loves you. He just isn't very good at showing it. He only ever wanted what was best for you."

Edward knew this to be a lie but he didn't have the heart to crush his former-nanny-slash-current-stepmom's hopes. For all his life he'd known his father to care for only one thing: himself. Everything else came in second at a long, long distance.

"I'd better go in," he said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to summon as much confidence as he could muster. "Best not to keep him waiting and all that."

Carmen nodded, her hands locked firmly together as she watched Edward disappear behind the door. She hoped that for once her husband would show his true colors instead of the business façade that had already caused so much discord between him and his son.

"Edward." His father didn't even look up from his paperwork as he heard his son enter, his mind fixed on the quarterly figures his oldest daughter, the apple of his eye, had dropped off earlier that morning.

"Father." Edward's voice was clipped, his hackles already rising at the cool welcome he received. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Of course I do." The eyes of Edward Senior were cold and calculative, a smooth mask he'd spent years perfecting, as he finally lifted his face to look at his son. "When a son throws his career, and place in society, to the dogs, any father would feel compelled to speak a word or two to him."

"A word or two?" Edward sneered. "I feel honored!"

"Don't get smart with me, boy," his father warned. "I have had just about as much of you running your mouth off at everyone as I can stomach!" He waited a few breaths until his mask was back in place before he continued. "When you voiced your desire to become a doctor, I pushed my disappointment aside to let you go along with it, hoping that giving you what you wanted would finally turn you into someone I wouldn't have to feel ashamed off. I see now utterly I was mistaken."

Edward sighed, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to do what he always did: let each and every insult his dad spewed at him glide off his skin like it was made of Teflon. "I'm sorry, dad," he muttered, feeling about three inches tall.

"All of this was supposed to be yours," his father went on, his arms sweeping theatrically across the room, "but you chose to throw it all away. And for what?"

"It wasn't for me, dad," Edward growled. "You know it. I would have sucked at being a CEO."

"You didn't even _try_," his father put him in place. "If it wasn't for your sister, all of the hard work and dedication I put into Masen Industries would have gone to waste. And what did you blow it all away for?" The old man shook his head in disdain, no further words needed between the two of them to convey his contempt.

Edward bit his lip, trying not to tear off into another tirade about how Charlotte, a carbon copy of Edward Senior, except for the fact that she had tits in place of cock, though she did appear to be owning a pair of solid steel balls, had been all too pleased to step in when Edward declined. He'd done that more times than he could count and the end result had always been the same: defeat. There was just no winning against his dad just as there was no pleasing him.

"You're lucky Esme and her husband were good enough to take you in and give you a chance to redeem yourself, or so help me-" His voice cut off, the unfinished threat hanging in the air. "In time, I hope this damage to the Masen name can be undone but, if you _ever_ put it at risk again, I will not lift a finger to get you out of your mess. You've cost me more than enough already."

Edward hung his head, trying to hide his true feelings by appearing submissive and remorseful as his father continued his rant. He'd always known that to his father, the business came first and his family followed at a long distance, but to hear it again after everything he'd been through? It hurt.

And what hurt most of all was the fact that his father was right. He had been childish and irresponsible when he should have faced his problems like a man. He had damaged the Masen name with his foolish behavior and by doing so, put everything his family had spent their lives trying to achieve in jeopardy.

For once he deserved the scolding he was getting… but that didn't make it any easier to soak up the blows.

"I believe you have a plane to catch," his father concluded, apparently satisfied that he'd burnt his son down to the floor. "You will find that all of your travel arrangements have been taken care of in your absence."

Edward nodded, his mind so battle worn that he was operating on sheer autopilot. "Thank you, father," he muttered, "I am much indebted to you. I can only pray that one day your opinion of me may better again." It was all he could hope for, since Edward knew very well that his father would never have a high opinion of him. Too much had passed between them for that and it had been a long time since Edward had held hopes of having any real sort of relationship with his father. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to have one at that moment. Not that, like any son, he didn't crave his father's approval deep down inside.

"Then make it so," his father barked. "Your fate is in your own hands now."

"Give my regards to Charlotte and her family," Edward sighed, knowing this was his cue to leave. "I trust they are doing well?"

"Of course they are." His father almost seemed insulted by the sheer insinuation his pride and joy would be somehow lacking. His father had never been very candid about his favoritism for his oldest child; the one who'd succeeded him as CEO of Masen Industries and whom, apart from the fact that she was a cold hard bitch, never put a foot wrong in her life.

"Goodbye then." As he turned to leave, Edward hoped for some word or gesture that would make him realize that his father did care but, as expected, none came. He'd known for years his father's way of showing affection was to spend money. And God knew he had.

When Edward had been caught red-handed with his hand in the hospital cookie jar, he'd assumed his career was over. He could faintly remember having read something somewhere about the increasing figures of pill-popping surgeons and the way hospitals across the nation were dealing with those, but as a lowly first year attending, he never expected anyone to make any exceptions to the rule for him.

And the rules were clear: get caught and you're out.

That was when his dad stepped in; guns blazing and wallet drawn, throwing so much cash at the hospital it had became almost impossible for the board to fire the wayward resident, or even publicly hang him out to dry, instead electing to send him on a yearlong recovery course before welcoming him back in the newly opened Masen Neurology Wing, with no one except a handful of insiders knowing the true reason behind Dr. Masen's sabbatical year.

He knew his father's motives had been first and foremost to save his own face and that of the company. Any consideration he might have had about rescuing his son's career was of minor importance. If at all. To the Masen's, having the family name in the newspaper attached to a drug scandal would have been simply unacceptable and if money had to be spent to keep it from happening, then so be it.

So now, Edward would just have to suck up the fact that after all the fighting he'd done to gain his independence from the Masen chokehold, right now, they had him by the balls. Forever.

"How did it go?" Carmen and Tanya looked up from their chat the minute Edward stepped out of the house again, both faces taking on a look of concern.

Edward shrugged. "As expected, I guess." It was the truth. He didn't even feel disappointed, not when his father had only said exactly what Edward had imagined he would say. In fact, a part of him was almost relieved to have it over with. Now, he could move on.

"I'm sorry." It was Carmen who spoke first, her smile sad as she reached out to pull him into another hug. "He _does_ love you, you know?"

"I know," Edward muttered, wondering as he'd done so often how a woman who had been paid to look after him could have become more of a mother to him than the woman who'd birthed him.

"You go to Washington and make sure you make something of yourself," she ordered, her arms squeezing him to the point of discomfort as he felt her tears trickle down his neck. "It kills me to see you like this; so at odds with yourself."

"How do you always know what I'm feeling?' Edward smirked, keeping his voice low enough so that only the two of them would hear. "That shit just isn't fair!"

"It's what being a mother is all about, Eddie," Carmen chuckled, her laughter deepening at the funny look Edward cast her way. "I may not have given birth to you, but I sat up with you through teething, chicken pox, your final exam stress and detox. As far as I'm concerned, I am as much your mother as that cold bitch who brought you into this world."

Edward snorted, patting the back of her head as he kept her close for just one more minute. "That's the Carmen I know and love."

"Then you make sure you get better real fast so that you can come back to me," she scolded, pinching his cheek like she used to do, even though she knew he hated it, before pushing him in the direction of the car. "Now go, before you miss the plane or make me ruin my make-up."

Edward grinned, knowing she was going to do the latter anyway. "I'll miss you."

"Yeah, yeah," she uttered sarcastically, her hands making a dismissive gesture as she watched him get into the car, both of them knowing she felt way more than she was letting on.

"You about done?" Tanya questioned, putting her sunglasses back in place as she rapped her nails impatiently against the steering wheel.

"Yep," Edward nodded, waving at a sniffling Carmen as the car tore out of the driveway with screeching tires. "Jeez, Tan! What did this poor piece of metal do to you to be treated like this?"

Tanya huffed. "You'd better shut that pretty mouth of yours before I drop you off on the side of the road and let you get to the airport by yourself."

"Pretty mouth?" Edward grinned. "Does Craig know you still find me attractive?"

"Oh, shut up!" Tanya groaned. "You know you're good looking even without me blowing smoke up your ass. Besides, Craig knows he has nothing to fear in that respect."

His brow arched as he shot a sideways glance at her, "Oh, yeah?"

"Uh huh," she nodded, taking one hand off the wheel to flash a ring that Edward hadn't noticed before, though he wondered how he missed it because the stone was huge.

"Wow!" he gasped. "Does this mean-"

"I didn't know how to tell you," she shrugged, the roar of the engine making further conversation impossible as she pulled up to a traffic light.

Edward knew it should probably have made him feel weird to see his ex-wife engaged again so soon after their divorce was finalized but, even though he might feel differently later on, for now he was just profoundly happy his best friend had found happiness again. God only knew she deserved it. "How long?"

She shrugged. "Two weeks?"

He smiled, taking her hand in his and placing a light kiss on the back of it. "I'm happy for you, Tan. You deserve to be with a guy who loves you like you deserve."

"Are you for real?" Her brow arched as she shot a sideways glance at him.

"Absolutely." He hoped the tone of his voice would leave her in no doubt. It had been a long time since he'd thought of her like that and even then it had been more about the idea of her than the actual person behind it. "I meant what I said that day…about us being friends."

"I know." Her eyes were fixed firmly on the road, her hands tightening around the wheel as she spoke.

He sighed, looking out of the window as the car veered onto the access road to O' Hare's departures terminal. _Almost there. _

"Be happy, Tanya," he spoke, as the car came to a sudden stop in front of the entrance. "You've earned it."

"So did you," Tanya turned away, hiding her face as she got out of the car and popped the hood.

"I'll try," he smirked, grabbing his duffel bag from the trunk.

"That's about as much as I can ask for." Her smile was watery as she hugged him. "Carmen and I went through the house the other day, making sure everything you might need got shipped off to Esme's."

"Thanks," Edward smiled uncomfortably, never having gotten good at saying goodbye though, God only knew, he'd done it more often than he cared to remember.

"You take care of yourself, Edward," she pressed her lips briefly against his before she pulled back again.

He nodded. "I will." There was nothing she could say that would make him more aware of the fact that it was up to him now to show he was worthy.

Up to him to move on.

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_**Thoughts? **_

_**You'll get to meet Bella in the next chapter. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I've created a blog for this story. It's still pretty empty but you can find the outfit Bella wears in this chapter as well as a handy family tree of the Masen family on there. In time it will also contain character bios, music mentioned in this story and some other stuff that inspired me. **_

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**2.**

_**The girl**_

_Sea-Tac Airport, September 2011_

"Edward?" Hearing his name, Edward looked up, his duffel bag slamming against his hip as a suit-clad man rushed past him, screaming into his cell phone, as he recognized the woman standing a few feet away from him immediately, even though they hadn't seen each other for years. "Is that you?"

"Esme!" Edward smiled, crossing the distance to hug his older sister; the one who, unlike Charlotte, had always stood by him, even when he didn't deserve it. "You haven't changed a bit," he added. She was one of the few members of his family, apart from Carmen, Alice and Tanya, although they'd divorced, who had always accepted him for who he was and…and he'd missed her. More than he would ever admit.

"Flatterer!" she grinned, swatting his shoulder. "It's been five years, Ned. Of course I've changed."

"Well, only for the better then!" Edward joked, wrapping his arm around Esme's shoulder as they walked out of Sea-Tac's main terminal. "It appears small town living agrees with you."

"What can I say?" Esme chuckled, directing him to the spot where her car was parked. "All that mud has to be good for the skin. You look like hell, though."

"Thanks a lot!" Edward smirked, repaying his sister's 'kindness' by messing up her hair, just like he'd done when they were kids. And from the look in her eyes, she still hated it as much as she had back then. "I figured since I've actually been through hell, I might as well look the part. By the way, why is it that all the women in my life turn out to be complete bitches?"

"Because you need us to take you down a notch or two when your head threatens to grow too big for your shoulders!" Esme quipped, though the smile she managed to plaster onto her face didn't reach her eyes.

If her brother only knew just how worried she had been about him, he would have beaten himself up about the whole damn thing even more than he already was. She knew him, hell, she realized full well that she was probably one of a very short list of people who actually did know the real Edward. Therefore she knew how hard it was to get him to admit anything to himself, least of all to others. Hovering over him like a bad rash would have been the worst she could do, no matter how much she'd wanted to be by his side. No, he would have pushed her away before she could well and truly reach for him.

As it was, all she could do was be determined to help him conquer whatever demons he was facing and go back to the cocky jackass she knew and loved so well (even though he'd once put ink in her drink right before she had a date with the guy she had been secretly crushing on for months). She'd help him get through this in whatever way he needed from her.

"Don't worry. I think dad's more than willing to do the honors," Edward muttered bitterly.

"Huh?" Esme looked up in confusion, her gloomy line of thought disrupted by her brother's voice.

"Cut me down to size?" Edward offered. "I felt about two feet tall when I left his office this morning."

"This is us," Esme announced. Stopping in front of a swanky black Mercedes. "And you know he's an asshole who doesn't even care about his own kids unless there's something in it for him or Masen Industries. I don't even know why you bothered swinging by the old place anyway." She shot him a pointed look over the car's roof before sliding into the driver's seat. "You knew it was going to happen."

"It's not like I had a choice," Edward grumbled. "Besides, after all the cash he laid out to keep me employed, I figured the least thing I could do was drop by and let him hack into me for old times' sake."

"All the cash he laid out for _himself_, you mean," Esme huffed, throwing the car in reverse and navigating it smoothly out of the parking lot. "By the way, I'm so calling bullshit on Tanya for going along with it."

"Keep out of it, Es," Edward warned. "I know you never liked her but I did. I still do."

Esme shrugged. "Suit yourself." She'd always known her brother was making a mistake by marrying Tanya, even if it might have been the honorable thing to do at the time. They were friends, good friends, nothing more. Marrying…it could have only led to heartbreak.

And it had, though Esme was the last person on earth to point that out to her brother. Being as it was, she just felt incredibly sorry for them, though she'd rather insert hot needles into her eyeballs than admit that last feat.

Silence fell over the siblings as Esme got caught up in the congested midday traffic around Seattle. A string of curses fell from her lips as other drivers got in her way, the mellow jazz pouring from the radio taking Edward miles away as the cityscape flashed by.

His sister had always been something of an idol for Edward, being the only one who'd successfully broken free of the Masen chokehold. She'd grown up just like him; privileged and overprotected. Their father tried to mold her into the vision he had for her future, which in her case had been a marriage to one of his business associates to further the glory of the family name. For the most part, she'd acted out her part to perfection, hating every minute of it but not quite knowing how to break free. All that changed when she turned eighteen.

He'd never known the particulars of it, since held been away at summer camp at the time, but he knew something had gone terribly wrong during a date with one of the men his father had handpicked for his daughter and, judging by the outcome, his father had not taken the side he should have picked; the side of his child.

It had been the last night Esme had spent under her father's roof, taking off the next morning, before anyone was up. She'd set off on a journey across the globe, staying in touch only with the little brother she felt bad for leaving behind in that viper's nest, before finally settling down in rural Washington where she'd met the love of her life.

Their father had been displeased, to say the least, cut Esme off from her trust fund and refused to even meet her husband or welcome them for the holidays in the hopes it would pull her back into the fold. Esme, true to her free spirited character, hadn't given a shit about the money or her father's disapproval and just kept doing what she'd always done: live her life the way _she_ wanted.

"So tell me about this town you're living in," Edward spoke, breaking the silence as the car veered across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, crossing the border between the mainland and the peninsula. "Do you guys make a habit of naming towns after kitchen utensils?"

"_Us guys_?" Esme snorted. "What do you mean? Us uncivilized rednecks? Jeez, Ned, biased much?"

"So no neighboring town of Spoons, I guess?" Edward mock pouted. "And, by the way, you know better than to call me Ned. I hate it."

"I know!" Esme chuckled. "I figured it was safer than calling you, Eddie, though. Last time I did that, you put salt in my coffee instead of sugar."

"You deserved it!" Edward huffed, though inwardly he loved their light banter. It reminded him of the old days. The _good_ days, before everything had gone tits up in his life. "Besides, I have a perfectly good first name; no abbreviations needed. I suggest you use it."

"And ruin my dirty little fantasies about Edward Rochester?" Esme gasped. "Never!"

"Ewww, Es, would you mind?" Edward cried. "It's bad enough that I have to live under the same roof as you and Carlisle, knowing some of the crazy shit you got up to." He cringed, remembering some of their more candid Skype sessions where, in lieu of girlfriends close enough to share that shit with, Esme had foisted the stories of her carnal experiences on her unsuspecting brother. "I don't want to know about your dirty, little fantasies!"

"Suit yourself," Esme sang, shrugging her shoulders as the landscape around them slowly started to change as they traveled further away from Seattle.

"So…Forks?" Edward tried again. He wanted to know something about the place he was going to spend the next six months of his life in. He'd done a bit of internet research while he was still in rehab but, apart from some generic town-council-and-local-business-association site, there hadn't been much out there that could tell him what it was actually like to live there, other than the fact that it was small and far, far away from the rest of the world. "What's it like?"

Esme smiled, her eyes softening as she thought about her hometown and how it had grown on her, even though she never expected it would. "It's nice."

"Nice?" Edward's smirk of irony made her giggle as he looked at her with one brow arched and his apparent amusement reflected in his vibrant green eyes. She remembered all too well that, not too long ago, those same eyes had been dull and filled with self-hate and regret.

"Yes," she answered, trying not to let her emotions show in her voice. "_Nice_. It's a great town to live in, though I suspect you may probably need some time adapting, being a full-blooded city slicker and all."

"I take offense!" Edward called out in mock indignation. "Just because I grew up in the city doesn't mean that I couldn't survive anywhere else."

"Oh puh-lease!" Esme snorted. "You and your fancy, little doctor's hands wouldn't hold up for one day in the forest. Your tie would get stuck somewhere or your new designer loafers would get ruined by mud and you'd be calling dad to air-lift you out of there before the hour was up!"

"I don't wear loafers, Es," Edward pressed, just wanting his sister take note of the fact he hadn't turned into a complete drone. "_Ever_."

"You would have, if dad had been able to sink his claws in you for a little longer,' Esme countered, her words holding far too much truth in them for comfort. "Don't worry, little brother," she continued, chuckling as she patted his leg over the center console. "I'll exorcise the 'dad' out of you in the next couple of months even if it kills me. The old man won't know what hit him when you get back."

"He wouldn't if you came with me," Edward tried, knowing full well the chances of that ever happening where slim to none.

"In your dreams, Ned!" Esme huffed, the car accelerating as it crossed the Hood Canal Bridge. "I've burned all my bridges behind me a long time ago and I'm not nearly masochistic enough to stick my head back into _that_ hornet's nest."

"I know," Edward muttered, his hand squeezing his sister's over the gear stick as the low purr of the car and the soft tunes coming from the radio lulled them back into another silence.

"Anyway," Esme went on, pushing the past and all its disconcerting memories aside, "the people are mostly really down to earth. Most of them are your typical blue-collar families, the majority of them working either at one of the sawmills outside town or hauling logs from the logging camps to the mills…"

"So, Forks really is the logging capital of America," Edward chuckled, remembering the town's nickname.

"Yep," Esme grinned, "so no hating on the huge amount of bare, polished woodwork you'll find around town or they'll chase you off!"

"Noted!" The image of a bunch of sturdy looking lumberjacks carrying axes and saws as they ran him out of town appeared in Edward's mind, making him smile, though be it a little uncomfortably.

"They're mainly harmless, though," Esme jokingly went on. "You should head over to Sam's this Friday night for drinks. It's a great way to meet people. The atmosphere is great and they usually have some live music, though not always of the best quality." Esme cringed, remembering a few of the less successful performances.

"I don't know, Es," Edward sighed. "I just got out of rehab. I don't think it would be a good idea to hit the nightlife on my first weekend of freedom."

"Nightlife?" Esme snorted. "I'm talking about a bar that's about as big as our living room and just as cozy as well. Besides, Forks is kind of a everyone-knows-everyone kinda town so if – and I'm saying that's a big 'if' because I don't think even you would be stupid enough to fuck up a second time – worse should come to worst, there'd be a whole army of town gossips trying to stage an intervention before you'd even hit the critical point."

"Are you sure it's a bar?" Edward chuckled. "Because it's starting to sound an awful lot like some sort of CIA training camp."

"You'll do fine, Ned," Esme shrugged. "I just know it."

Her brother shook his head, his eyes dropping to his legs. "I wish I could be so sure."

"Well, I am." Her voice sounded as sure as she felt in that moment as she patted his hand awkwardly, her movements encumbered by the fact that she had to keep her eyes on the road. "You're never going to get rehabilitated if you lock yourself away from the world."

Edward nodded, knowing there was truth in every word she said even if he did not really want to see it yet.

"Besides," Esme went on, her tone lighter to pull their conversation back into easier waters, "It's not like I'm going to send you in there on your own." She chuckled when Edward's brows furrowed into a confused frown. "Learn to love my shadow, little brother, because it's going to be hovering over you every step of the way."

"That's…er…good to know?" Edward snickered, part of him relieved to be easing back into society with the help of his sister but, the other wondering if having his sister around wasn't going to cramp his style.

Not that it had in the past, though. In fact, it was Esme who'd been responsible for him receiving his first kiss at the tender age of eleven, pimping a horribly shy and scared-half-to-death Edward out to the object of his youthful affection, who happened to be the kid sister of one of her friends.

"I'm only keeping my own interests at heart." She shrugged. "After all, Jasper's dating Emily Uley's little sister and I'm not going to let you screw up the life of the only one of Carlisle's kids who doesn't hate my guts."

"Things still that bad?" Edward smirked.

Esme grimaced. "Jazz is great for the most part. Keeps to himself and only gets into trouble when he and the rest of the tree-huggers stage another protest in the woods. Rosalie, on the other hand…." Esme let her voice trail off, the story of her rocky relationship with Carlisle's daughter needing no further explanation between the two of them.

"She still blames you for their parents' divorce?" As much as he hated to admit it, his family sometimes sounded horribly normal and peaceful compared to Esme's.

"Yep," Esme sighed. "Even though she knows their marriage was broken way beyond fixing before I even met her dad; that the divorce papers were already drawn up and ready to be signed by the time Carlisle and I got together." She pursed her lips, letting out another sigh as she stepped on the gas a little, venting her frustration on the road. "Part of me even understands why she does it, that's what makes it all so damn frustrating! I can't even be mad at the little snake because, if it had been me, I'd probably have felt the same!"

"No you wouldn't." Edward had a hard time believing his sister would put anyone through the same shit she was facing at the moment.

"Believe me: I would. Hell, I did!" Esme argued. "You may not have noticed it but me and Carmen…we weren't exactly best friends for a while, right after word of her entanglement with dad got out. I may not have been home at the time but, I sure as hell had an opinion about the whole mess. It makes me wonder if this isn't some cosmic karma-bites-you-in-the-ass kind of thing."

"Maybe," Edward smiled, trying to remember what things had been like at home around that time. He'd been away at boarding school for most of it so all he remembered were a few awkward-as-shit holidays of his parents glaring at each other across the table while most of the family treated Carmen like she was a leper. "Or maybe it's just bad luck."

Esme snorted. "The worst of luck!"

"You know," Edward mused, "I'm getting kind of psyched to meet them after everything you've told me."

"Oh, you will!" his sister grinned. "I wonder how long it will take you to regret it."

"Who knows? Maybe I will get along with both of them. After all…." His grin almost split his face in two as he glanced sideways. "It's not like _I_ destroyed their parents' marriage."

"Oh no, you didn't!" Esme shrieked, swatting him blindly as the car continued its steady pace along the increasingly scenic coastal road.

His head bumped against the headrest as he laughed out loud, trying to fend off his sister's attack without having them crash into a tree or a fellow road user. "Oh yes, I did!"

"Asshole!" Esme muttered, huffing as she cranked the volume on the radio, the noise effectively cutting short all further conversation.

Edward continued to laugh, the sensation of being carefree and happy again feeling so foreign it was almost shocking. After all, it had been a long, long time since he'd last felt that way. It felt good, though. Really good.

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar fashion, both siblings joking and laughing as they revisited childhood memories or filled each other in on the stuff they'd missed.

It was nice, Edward noted, to be around a person again who didn't have any sort of agenda or expectations from him. It was something he hadn't experienced in a while and, though his sister was pretty unforgiving in her criticism of him and his lifestyle at times, he had to admit he found it rather refreshing.

_Yes,_ he thought, as the car swerved onto the exit, entering the town of Forks, _maybe this exile thing isn't going to be so bad after all. _

Driving through town it soon became inescapably clear that Edward was as far away from the world he knew and grew up in as he could get; the people walking or driving around looked like they cared more about comfort and practicality than whether or not their outfits were fashionable or pretty. The buildings, scattered around the main street, looked well-worn by time and weather but more cozy and inviting than even his own place back in Chicago and the people more likely to become his friends.

He liked it. Very much.

"We're here," Esme announced, pulling the car onto a small, private side street right outside the other edge of town, their whole journey across town taking them no more than fifteen minutes at the most. And that was mainly because the traffic light had been red.

"The place looks great, Es," he remarked as his eyes scanned the three story Craftsman style property. It had been Esme's ongoing project ever since she moved in; the beautiful historic house needing some serious attention after decades of neglect and crappy DIY work.

"Thanks!" Esme almost glowed, her eyes shining with pride as they followed her brother's. "It's been a lot of hard work – and I do mean _a lot_ – but I think it's finally done now."

"So…" Edward grinned, chancing a sideways glance at Esme. "Time to move on again?"

"Never!" she gasped, chuckling along with him. "I've grown to really love this place, even though God knows it fought back hand and tooth, I don't think I'll ever want to let go of it. At least, not permanently."

Her love for every beam and stone of the house shone through as she pushed the button to open the garage, a happy sigh leaving her lips as she found herself enveloped by the freshly painted walls and crisp, classic contemporary furnishings she'd used throughout the place. "Besides, I think Carlisle would kill me if I'd forced him to move into another dump."

"So hubby doesn't share your love for fixer-uppers, does he?" Edward teased.

"He likes them well enough," Esme giggled, "he just doesn't really enjoy living in them."

"I can imagine." Edward nodded. Having shared the gruesome strain of long shifts and on-call nights, he wouldn't have particularly enjoyed coming home to a half finished house either. "I love what you did to the place, though. Those pictures didn't do it justice."

"Come on then!" Edward's amusement grew at the almost giddy tone of his sister's voice as she jumped out of the car while the garage door slowly dropped down behind them. "I'll show you the rest of the place."

Walking through the house, Edward could immediately see how his sister had managed to built such a great career for herself as an interior designer. Somehow she'd managed to do justice to the understated elegance of the time the house was built without making the place look like a museum; the modern touches of comfy furniture and her own, bohemian style making the place look cozy and welcoming.

"It's so quiet in here," Edward mused, walking to the living room, the light pouring in through the big windows and reflecting along the fresh, white walls. The only thing he could hear was a distant rumbling of a car and a few birds singing in forest that lined the house on three sides.

"Just wait until the kids get home," Esme chuckled, righting one of the brightly colored sofa pillows she'd picked up on one of her many travels to the orient. "There's no tranquility when those two are around. I'm warning you in advance."

"Thanks, I guess," he snickered, as a thought entered his mind. "Where are they, anyway?"

"Jasper's got baseball practice today," Esme answered, "and Rosalie…God knows where she is. She's probably hanging out with some of her friends."

"It doesn't bother you that you don't know?" It sounded odd to Edward. Not that his parents ever knew where he was during the day. No, that was what they'd hired Carmen for. She was the one who welcomed him in the afternoon and freaked out in a fiery stream of Spanish if he got home late.

That was, until he'd been sent to boarding school where he'd had just about the same freedom of a prison inmate. The only difference had been that he was at least able to roam the grounds freely and wear clothes that were slightly nicer than prison overalls, though the meaning behind them was just the same.

"Where did you find this?" His fingers brushed along the knotty, dark wood sitting on top of an antique looking side table. "Did you pick it up on one of your trips?"

"It's from a local artist, actually," Esme smiled. "She lives on the Quileute reservation close to town and uses all of this great stuff she finds in the forest. You should see some of her stuff. It's amazing."

"And let me guess," he joked, "a lot of it ends up in your clients' homes?"

"You know me too well," she grinned, pushing him through the double doors that separated the living room from the dining room. "There's more to see."

He smiled, his thoughts drifting as he tried to pay attention to Esme's never-ending stream of anecdotes about the history of the house and the three year renovation project she'd embarked on shortly after she'd gotten married to Carlisle.

"….and then, of course, there's the second floor," Esme went on after they'd toured the downstairs reception rooms and taken a peek into the upstairs bedrooms. Edward knew this was where she'd really gone to town, taking out walls and adding windows until the dark, pokey attic turned into a small, loft-style guest apartment. "It's where you'll live for the next couple of months."

Looking around, Edward got the sinking suspicion that Esme had redesigned the whole thing as soon as she agreed to have him over for the next half year, the color scheme and furniture being just the kind of stuff he liked, though he'd never be able to pick and color-coordinate all that stuff himself.

"Esme," he warned, shaking his head as his eyes landed on the brand new, empty shelves lining one of the walls of the small sitting room. _Perfect for his collection of music and books, _he thought.

"What?" she replied innocently, though the way she averted her eyes said it all.

"I thought you hated grey?" Edward asked, his voice stern as his eyes peeked past the half-open door into the grey and deep red masculinity of the bedroom. "You completely redid this place, didn't you?"

She shrugged, smiling guiltily. "I may have."

Edward sighed. "You didn't have to."

"I know," she smiled, "but considering I like nothing better in the world than to strip rooms to their blank state and completely reconfigure them, you really did me a favor here. Besides, if it's going to be your home for the next couple of months, you'd better feel at home in it. Life's been tough enough for you already."

"You didn't have to do all this," Edward repeated himself, shaking his head as he noticed more of the rustic wooden artwork he'd spotted downstairs, his hand rising to stop his sister before she could argue her defense. "But I'm glad you did, Es. I love it."

"Good." She smiled like the cat that got the cream. "I'll leave you to unpack your things then. Dinner will be at seven, which gives you…what…" She pushed the sleeve of her pullover up to glance at her watch. "…an hour and a half to get settled."

She was gone before Edward could ask if she needed help cooking, leaving him to the task of unpacking the boxes scattered around the room, the labels stuck to the top of each one bearing Tanya or Carmen's descriptions of what was to be found inside.

Each one bore the unique style of the woman who filled it, meaning that the box of 'necessities' filled by Tanya contained most of his standard works on medicine as well as a few more specific journals and articles, and the one bearing Carmen's almost illegible scribble of 'stuffy music' contained his prized collection of classical and jazz music.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up one of his favorite records and carefully placed it in the brand new looking entertainment system, the smooth tunes of Miles Davis' _Sugar Ray_ filling the empty space. Carmen had never really understood his love for what she called 'strange, depressing music you cannot dance to', her love going out to the more abundant music of her homeland.

She'd also never understood why Edward still bothered with books and CDs when he had a perfectly good Kindle and iPod to substitute those 'smelly old things'. To Edward, however, nothing quite paralleled the sensation of putting an old Chet Baker record onto his old record player and sagging down into his comfy, worn lounge chair with his old, thumbed edition of _On the Road_ as the record started to spin and music filled the room.

To him, it was what home really felt like.

He spent the next half hour opening boxes and unpacking the stuff he needed to function – clothes, some of his books and music, toiletries – until the strain of having been on the road all day and the protesting muscles in his neck forced him to abandon his work and drift back downstairs where Esme was hard at work preparing dinner while singing along to _La Bohème_.

"Don't give up the day job, sis!" Edward grinned, stealing a few carrots as he walked past the kitchen island.

His sister jumped, a loud 'ooh' leaving her lips at the sudden intrusion of her tranquil surroundings. "Don't you ever do that again!" she gasped, flashing the knife she'd been holding as if to emphasize her point. "I could have cut off a finger or something!"

"And I'd have sewn it back on before you could've even blinked an eye," Edward shrugged, snickering at his sister's flustered state.

"Cocky asshole," she grumbled, going back to the task of chopping up vegetables. "So, have you finished unpacking already?"

"Nah, I just got bored with it," Edward answered. "I figured I'd go out for a walk while it's still light outside. Unless you need my help, that is?"

"I think I'll manage just fine on my own, thank you," Esme spoke. She'd never much cared for being 'helped' in the kitchen, since most of the time it meant extra work, telling people what to do or how to do it. "Don't get lost."

"In a town like this?" Edward arched his brow, grinning widely. "I think even I should be able to find my way around here without my trusty GPS leading the way."

"Oh, before I forget," Esme stopped him before he could go out, "the garage called. You can pick up your rental car first thing tomorrow."

"Great! Thanks." It would be good to have his own way of getting around town without having to depend on his sister as his own personal driver or borrow someone else's car.

Setting off from the front porch he walked back down the lane and into town, marveling at the way nature and town seemed to almost be interwoven, like the woods were embracing the town…or laying siege to it, waiting patiently before it would surrender and be absorbed.

As he walked further into town, the greenery was pushed farther back; the side streets off the main thoroughfare no longer ending in plush, green forest but splitting off into other streets lined by the same one or two story wooden houses which seemed to be the norm around town. The main road was mostly occupied by a few small businesses, mainly ones selling supplies in the widest variety of the word.

All in all, it appeared to Edward that practicality, like he'd seen in the people and their cars, was the key word around town; nothing fancy or flamboyant, just the kind of stuff a person would need to have a nice, comfortable life.

Walking past the local 7-Eleven, he remembered there had been a few missing items among the things Tanya and Carmen had packed, toothpaste being one of them. However, as soon as he walked through the door he realized that a relaxed browse through the local offerings would be out of the question. Apparently in a town as small as Forks, every new arrival was a spectacle worthy of extensive study; conversations coming to a sudden halt as all eyes turned towards him.

In all his life Edward had never felt as awkward before, not even when he was caught red-handed, pilfering the hospital pharmacy in need of his next fix. The women – because the store seemed to be strangely devoid of men – peering at him from over the shelves made him want to hightail it out of the building like his ass was on fire. And that was even before the whispering had started.

It wasn't until he reached the seemingly deserted produce section along the far end of the store, that the whispering started to die down and he managed to breathe freely again, noting only after a few more moments he wasn't alone.

His companion appeared to be the only woman under forty inside the store at the moment, the way she was studying the selection of apples making him wonder what could be so interesting about a piece of fruit to warrant such a thorough inspection.

She was beautiful, in an almost otherworldly sort of way; her dark brown hair and pale skin making her look like she'd wandered out of one of those old-fashioned films, her black, fifties-style dress perfecting that look almost to detail, making her look kind of like Dita Von Teese's more approachable younger sister. That was, apart from the shoes.

He almost snorted when his eyes fell on the black and white checkered Vans she wore, the contrast with the rest of her vintage appearance so striking he started to wonder if maybe some, troublemaker hadn't stolen the shoes she'd left the house with.

There was something about her, though, something that went deeper and further than her beauty and her freaky sense of style that drew him towards her in an almost primal, unstoppable way. His urges to speak to her and find out more about her making him drift subconsciously towards the apple section, where she was still scrutinizing them as if her life depended on it.

"They look good enough to eat," he remarked, grabbing one from the stack.

She did not answer but she didn't have to, the way she turned her shoulders to physically draw herself away from him saying enough as she quickly grabbed a few apples from the display and set them into her basket, her retreat quite startlingly similar to the way he had just fled from the front of the store.

Edward snorted, turning his attention back to the apples, smiling wryly at his own antics. _Apparently, his newfound charisma only worked on women over forty. _

She had already left by the time he'd managed to find all of the things he needed and made his way to the register at the front of the store, fortunately taking most of his captivated audience from before with him. The woman manning the register looked like she didn't care who or what he was as long as he paid; ringing up his purchases with a professional indifference as she shot a few pointed glares at the die-hards who still seemed to regard him as some sort of miracle appearing to the good people of Forks.

_Time to go_. Even if a look at the clock hanging above the counter hadn't told him so, the unfortunate incident in the convenience store was more than enough to put Edward off of further explorations of the town, intuitively picking a small alley next to the store in the hope it would bring him in the direction of the Cullens' home. _His_ home.

It appeared his presence in the alley couldn't have been timed better; his eyes looking up from the paper bag containing his purchases to find a young woman – a very familiar looking young woman – besieged against her car by a group of teens hollering abuse.

"You're such a freak!" one of them, a pimply looking boy of about seventeen screeched, pushing her shoulder into the unforgiving steel of the car door.

"Yeah!" A girl, her startling blond hair and blue eyes in stark contrast to the ugliness pouring from her mouth, nodded. "We don't want you here, you filthy whore!"

"Hey!" Edward yelled as the group converged closer and closer around the defenseless girl, his feet taking off in a jog as he awkwardly clutched the bag with one hand, the other poised to fight if needed be. "Get the hell away from her, you idiots!"

The look in his eyes sent the kids scrambling, though not before one of them – the one who appeared to be the ring leader – gave the girl one final shove which sent her crashing into the concrete with an anguished yelp, the unforgiving surface scraping her knees and hands as she tried to break her fall.

"Are you okay?" Edward panted, kneeling next to her as his mind shot automatically into doctor mode, checking her wounds to see if they were in need of medical attention.

"Get away from me!" Her eyes were aflame as she yanked herself free from his hold, jumping into the rusty, old truck and started the engine before Edward could even blink his eyes.

He just about managed to jump sideways as she tore out of the parking space, the wheels narrowly missing the tips of his toes as the truck roared down the street like a charging cavalry before turning onto the main road and vanishing out of sight. Edward, meanwhile, stood in the empty street, scratching his head and wondering what the hell had just happened.

It would only be much later on that he would realize just how life-changing his little pre-dinner walk had been.

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_**Thoughts? **_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**A family tree of the Cullen family has been added to the blog. You can find the link on my profile page. **_

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**3.**

_**The table**_

By the time he finally made it back to the house after having lost his way at least twice among the small, quirky streets of Forks, Edward's mind was still in tangles, trying to make sense of the situation he'd just stumbled into.

"You're late!" Esme scolded, the fragrant smells of home cooked Italian cuisine making his mouth water as they drifted towards him through the open back door.

"I lost my way," Edward mumbled, looking anywhere but at his sister for fear she might catch on to something. "Who would've known that was possible in a one-horse town like this?"

"Pfft!" Esme huffed. "I'm sure a prissy, little city boy like you could get lost in his own backyard if he didn't bring his GPS with him!" It was only when she looked up from her pans that she noticed the subtle changed in him. "You look flustered."

_Just as he thought._ Edward swallowed, remembering only in the nick of time that something else had happened apart from his unfortunate meeting with Mona Lisa, as he'd started to call her in his mind; the name referring not so much to the painting as to the Nat King Cole song. "You could have given me a little heads up before I went into town unprotected," he therefore grumbled, trying to push the thoughts of his mysterious girl out of his mind. "I felt like a fucking zoo exhibit when I stepped inside the 7Eleven!"

Esme snickered, arching her brow as her face disappeared behind the smoke of the boiling pasta water. "Jeez, Edward! Overreacting much?"

_If only she knew._ "I'm not overreacting, Es," he defended, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the feeling of unease the whole supermarket debacle had left behind. "They were _whispering_! What the hell is up with that?"

Esme chuckled, inwardly trying to take stock of whoever might have been there at that time of day. Nora McCarty and Shelly Cope probably, maybe Donna Crowley and, of course, Rebecca Black behind the counter. "Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?" she asked, knowing that to these ladies the arrival of Edward was the miracle they'd been praying for.

"Yeah." Edward frowned wondering what the hell his sister was playing at. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Esme chuckled, enjoying teasing with her little brother. "Well, to most of the women in this town, you're the closest to a Mister Bingley they are ever going to get; young, single rich surgeon, gracing the town with a semi-permanent presence…" Her eyes were dancing with mischief as she let her voice trail off, noting how her little brother was starting to look greener by the second.

"I'm not a piece of meat, Es," Edward groaned, "and if some of my former colleagues have their way, I won't be a doctor for that much longer either." It had stung to hear his former buddies, both residents he'd taken under his wing and attendings with whom he'd worked side by side on many patients, clamoring for his dismissal as soon as they found out what he'd been up to. He knew if the roles had been reversed he would have probably done the same but still…it stung.

"Doesn't matter," Esme snickered. "As long as you wear a white coat and show up at the hospital from time to time, most of the town won't know how close you came to losing your license." She held up her hand, stopping her brother before he would continue arguing technicalities. "The point is: unless you manage to conjure a Mister Darcy from somewhere, you're going to be the talk of the town and the wet dream, of every mother in town with a single daughter over twenty."

"If only they knew." Edward smiled ruefully. As soon as those women found out the dream doctor was nothing but a recovering junkie who'd left his hometown in disgrace, they wouldn't have been so quick to try and fix him up with their daughters.

"Yeah, well, they don't," Esme countered. "And I imagine them finding out would be even worse than being ogled like a juicy piece of man-steak, so you'd better keep your mouth shut."

Edward couldn't do anything else but agree, even though he did feel slightly nauseated having himself referred to as a piece of meat. He knew having people find out why he'd changed the hustle and bustle of the big city, and its renowned hospitals, for small town living and working in a no-name community hospital would probably be the end of his career. No one with half a brain would entrust their well-being in the hands of a recovering drug addict and his supervisors at Northwestern had been very clear in their terms….

No, people were better off not knowing. Or, in any case, _he_ was better off if they didn't.

"Do you think I have time for a quick shower before dinner?" he asked, stealing a cherry tomato from the chopping board before Esme could stop him.

She nodded. "Probably. Carlisle just texted to let me knowing he was leaving and picking up Jasper on his way home. I don't know about Rose but, after Carlisle's last lecture on punctuality, I don't think she'd dare getting home late again."

From what his sister had told him, Edward got the distinct impression that Rosalie pretty much came and went as she pleased, mouthing off at her parents whenever they cramped her style and listened only to her dad when she knew it was either that, or be grounded.

Chuckling as his sister tried in vain to swat him away with a sauce ladle before he swiped another tomato from the counter, he made his way back up the stairs to his half-personalized room. The empty shelves flashed by in transit as he crossed the space on his way to the small, functional bathroom to the back of his little apartment.

He was on his way back downstairs before twenty minutes had passed, feeling revived after a quick shower and shave, to catch the tail end of a conversation between Esme and Jasper as he reached the ground floor.

"…absolutely ridiculous. He didn't even show up for practice today and when Crowley, that fucking asshole, started goofing off in the back with some of the new guys, coach made us do laps around the field for the rest of training. I'm exhausted!"

"Watch your mouth," Esme warned him, Edward's lips pulled into a smile as he listened to his sister acting like a mom. It was weird to hear her like that, even though he'd always pictured his sister having kids some day.

Jasper muttered an apology as Esme consoled him with the hopes that next practice would probably be better.

"I dunno," Jasper muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen. "It's not as fun as it used to be anymore."

"Maybe Mike and Royce will quit altogether or the coach will have them kicked off the team. You said yourself that they skipped more practices than they've attended over the last couple of weeks," Esme offered, her eyes shining as she spotted Edward coming into view from the corners of her eyes. "Jazz? I'd like you to meet my brother, Edward." She patted his hand to get his attention, the boy at the breakfast bar slowly turning around to get a look at the new arrival.

To Edward, one of the great things about his temporary move to Forks was that he finally got to meet the kids Esme had been telling him so much about for the past couple of years. When his sister had married Carlisle about six years ago, they had still been living with their mother in California and when they did move, Edward had been in the final stages of his residency, leaving him with no time to think, let alone plan family visits across the country. Besides, he had a feeling Esme would know there was something wrong with him the minute she laid eyes on him and like any junkie, he didn't want to run the risk of being found out.

No, as little as he had seen of Carlisle over the past six years, he had seen nothing at all of Jasper and Rosalie. It had pained him to be so cut off from his sister; one of the few members of his family who actually gave a fuck about him, but it couldn't be helped. Her life was in Washington and his in Illinois and between both their jobs and their families, visits had been few and very far in between. _Well, all of that was about to change. _

Jasper Cullen was tall for his age, his long, lanky frame folded awkwardly on the kitchen stool as he hunched over the island, his deep blue eyes contrasting starkly with the half-long waves of greasy, jet black hair hanging onto his shoulders in messy waves.

Edward immediately liked him, though he couldn't tell why. Maybe it was the open, intelligent look in Jasper's eyes or the warm smile and outstretched hand with which the boy greeted him as he walked into the kitchen. "Hey, nice to have another man around here to even out the estrogen."

"Jazz!" Esme objected.

"What?" Jasper, replied innocently, smiling angelically at his stepmom. "With dad and him both being doctors, chances are I'm still going to be outnumbered at the dinner table again."

Edward had a feeling there was more to it and, knowing what he did about the infamous girl spawn, got the feeling that he was going to be a UN peacekeeper more than just a regular male role model to discuss sports and other manly things with. _Not that he'd ever call himself a role model, though…_

"Smart thinking," he nevertheless replied, not wanting to assume too much or make everyone else feel uncomfortable. "So, Esme tells me you're big on nature conservation?" He hopped onto an empty stool, chuckling as Jasper's eyes lit up while Esme shook her head, muttering something under her breath about not getting Jasper started on nature.

"That I am, sir," Jasper solemnly declared, pushing his hair back behind his ears. "You should see some of the stuff the local timber companies get away with, all in the name of 'nature management'." He huffed sarcastically, his eyes betraying his passion as he went on. "What the hell is 'nature management' anyway? I can tell you what it's not: it's not the cutting away of whole acres of trees that have been here for as long as anyone can remember and reducing a lively ecosystem to a barren wasteland."

"Oh, good God!" a disinterested groan sounded from behind them. "Is he going on about that again? I'm going upstairs to change." Edward turned around just in time to see the last locks of pale blond hair disappear out of sight as Jasper's sister stormed upstairs.

"I think she was switched at birth," Jasper smirked as he followed Edward's gaze, the sound of loud rap music blaring from upstairs soon after they'd heard a door slam shut. "There's no way '_that'_ could ever be related to me."

"Jasper!" Esme scolded him, placing a bowl of artfully decorated salad on the counter. "That's no way to talk about your sister."

"You should hear what she's saying about us behind our backs!" Jasper huffed, disrupting Esme's careful craftsmanship by picking a piece of cucumber out of the bowl. "I think it's more than fair if we get to return the favor every now and then."

Esme sighed, pouring the pasta into a colander. "Just go get your dad, will you? He should be in his office."

"Where else?" Jasper muttered, gliding of his stool and trudging out of the room.

"Ready to bail yet?" Esme grinned apologetically, setting the bowl of pasta next to the salad before turning her attention to the parts of the dish which still needed completing.

"Nah," Edward shrugged. "Your family's interesting, though."

His remark caused Esme to laugh out loud, her slender frame doubling over as the bread she was slicing was momentarily forgotten. "That's certainly an apt way to describe us!" she finally panted, holding her sides as she slowly started to recover. "I'm afraid this is nothing, though. You should see them around Thanksgiving when Rosalie wants nothing but cookie cutter traditionalist while Jasper fights to free as many birds possible from ending up on the dinner table."

Edward shook his head, laughing as he grabbed a bowl and followed his sister into the dining room. "It's almost like being back home," he grinned.

"No way!" Esme gasped. "Even if the kids are flying at each other's throats and Carlisle never gets to leave his OR again, this is so much better than being back in Chicago. At least here I don't have to stand by and let some trust-fund baby feel me up for the good of the company."

"It wasn't that bad!" Edward muttered, never quite knowing how to react in situations like those. He knew Esme hated the life she'd lived in Chicago with a passion, and had spent many years trying to 'reprogram' herself but to him, it had always been home; the only sort of home he'd ever known. Sure, it may not have been the warmest nest a young boy could land himself in but it had been _his_.

Esme, meanwhile, knowing Edward's conflict even without it ever having been discussed between them, took great care to avert her face. It was better if her brother never learned what had really gone down while he had been safely tucked away at his expensive boarding school. Knowing just how far their father would go to protect the family's interests…it would destroy him. Especially given the state he was in.

"Edward." At the mention of his name, Edward looked up to find a man who could only be his sister's husband, even if Edward didn't remember him from the few times they'd met over the past couple of years, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked like both his kids; his frame as tall and slim as Jasper's and his hair and eyes the same color as what Edward had seen of the girl. "It's nice to see you again." There was something in Carlisle's eyes that made Edward wonder if the man was, indeed, as happy to see him as he claimed to be; a tension in his smile as he reached out and shook Edward's hand, slightly too firmly, in greeting.

"How are you doing?" Edward answered, trying not to over thinking the situation. After all, it could be nothing more but the strain of long workdays and difficult cases.

"Busy," Carlisle chuckled, stealthily herding his family into the dining room, "but you'll see all about that tomorrow."

"Ah, yes," Edward nodded. "I really appreciate this chance you're giving me."

"It's hard work," Carlisle replied, the tension back full force. The tone of his voice once again made Edward wonder if Carlisle was really behind the offer to have Edward serve out his probation at Forks General or if he'd merely been doing his wife a favor, "and, of course, there will be certain restrictions…but let's not talk about that today."

Again, Edward nodded, quietly finding his seat at the table in between Carlisle at the right hand head of the table and Esme on the left; Jasper impatiently eyeing the fragrantly smelling dishes on the table across from him as they waited for Rosalie to arrive.

_The hospital._ Even the thought of starting there tomorrow brought forth such a flurry of emotions that Edward had trouble keeping himself in check. In his heart, there was nothing he wanted more than to be back to what he did best. His mind, however, was very weary of the dangers his return to practicing medicine would pose. After all, wasn't the hospital, though not _this_ very hospital, where everything had gone wrong? Would he be strong enough to resist the temptation of falling back into his old habits? Could he make it work?

God, he wanted to!

"Daddy!" Again, the girl flashed by him too fast for Edward to get a look at her, her face hidden behind her hair as she hugged her father as if he'd been away for years instead of hours, before taking up her seat next to him.

It was only then he got his first look of Rosalie Cullen, though with a sharp intake of breath he realized that 'first' might not be the proper phrase. He may not have known it was her at the time but as she looked up at him, her eyes widening with surprise, there was no mistaking the identity of the girl sitting across from him.

It was _her_; the one who'd called his Mona Lisa a whore.

Had it not been for the presence of others, Edward would have laid into her like a roaring lion but being as it was, he just had to content himself with glaring at her from across the table as he filled his plate with food and tucked in. He wouldn't do anything to embarrass his sister or cause an upset on his first night there. _Later._

"How was everyone's day?" Carlisle asked, as he buttered a piece of bread. "Jasper told me football practice wasn't all that great?"

Jasper snorted, quickly emptying his mouth before he answered his father. "It wouldn't have been so bad if half the team hadn't been slacking off. I seriously don't know if we're even going to make it to play off's this year if King and Newton don't get their act together soon."

"It's not Royce's fault that you all suck so badly!" Rosalie argued, flashing her brother a look of disdain. "It's very hard for him to work with a team that's so much worse than him."

"Thanks for the compliment," Jasper sneered sarcastically. "And just so you know, we wouldn't be all that bad if your boyfriend could be bothered to keep his tongue in his own mouth for a few hours every week and show up for practice. We might actually start acting like a team if everyone was there."

"Jasper!" Carlisle scolded as Rosalie muttered a pissed off 'whatever' under her breath. "Please remember your manners at the dinner table."

"Let's all just eat?" Esme offered, passing the bread to her brother. "We wouldn't want Edward to start thinking we're some sort of horrible family who only yells at each other."

"No." Rose's eyes were gleaming dangerously as she kept her voice so low only those closest to her could hear. "We wouldn't want precious _Edward_ to be getting the wrong ideas."

If Esme had been able to achieve anything, at least it was the momentary cessation of hostilities, everyone fixing their attention to the meal as a tense and fragile truce hung above the dinner table.

After about five minutes of tense silence only broken by the exchange of small talk and the sound of silverware scraping plates, Esme had seen enough.

"Okay, is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" she snapped, stabbing a meatball onto her fork with a violence that made all three men at the table cringe inwardly.

Rosalie snorted disdainfully, one lip curled slightly upwards as she glared at her stepmother. "Like I'm under any sort of obligation to tell _you_."

Carlisle chose that moment to finally speak up. "Unless you want to find yourself grounded yet again this weekend, I suggest you apologize to Esme immediately."

"Why the hell would I do that?" Rosalie snapped back, her eyes blazing with rage. "I never did anything wrong. She's not my mother and she never will be. I will never take orders from a woman who ruined a marriage."

Edward had heard enough at that point, the insults that little snake was firing off at his sister, as if it was the moist normal business in the world, stirred up his protective side. "No, you think cornering an innocent young woman in a back alley is the right way to go," he sneered, his eyes narrowing as they met Rose's flaming glare. If he had been in a more rational state of mind he might have found it odd he was sticking up for a girl he hardly knew but, at that moment, Edward was beyond that. All he could see in front of him was the scared look and the frail beauty of a young woman cornered by a gang of useless brats; one of them sitting right in front of him. He wanted – no needed – to protect and defend her, some strange primal urge taking possession of him as soon as his mind wandered back to _her_.

For a moment Rosalie's blue eyes widened with surprise, the young girl for some reason never having considered that the new guest might betray her to her parents, but in a mere moment the rage was back, multiplied by an acute sense of betrayal. "Isabella Harrison an innocent young woman?" she cried, chuckling coldly. "Don't make me laugh! That's like calling Osama bin Laden a naughty boy. She's a whore and everybody knows it."

"That's enough! Isabella Harrison is one of the most admirable young women I've ever met and you'd do well to learn some lessons out of her book." Even Edward was shocked at the anger in Carlisle's voice, his fist slamming on the solid oak of the dining room table as he stood up and fixed his youngest child with a look that would have startled anyone. Except, it seemed, for Rosalie.

"It's true!" she screeched. "Her passport doesn't say Harrison, it says _Swan_. Royce said it himself and he knows because his mother saw it with her own eyes when she opened her account."

"Yeah, and she shared all of that wisdom with her son," Jasper chimed in, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he deftly avoided the poking elbow of his sister. "How convenient of her."

"Are you calling me a liar?" she hissed, looking more and more like a cornered animal. A rabid, ferocious cornered animal.

"_I_ am calling you grounded," her father interrupted before the two children could break out into another fight. "Indefinitely."

Rosalie huffed loudly, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits as she assessed the situation, weighing all the possibilities in her mind. "I'd watch out if I were you, Esme," she finally sneered, slamming her napkin on the table, the chair nearly toppling backwards as she rose abruptly from her seat. "From the looks of it, the competition is hard at work pulling the rug out from under your feet. I wonder how long it will be until Jazz and I will be greeting another new 'mommy'?"

Carlisle and Esme were both too shocked to say anything, their silence creating the perfect opportunity for Rosalie to make her dramatic exit.

"_Now_ will you send her to military school, dad?" Jasper groaned, spooning up the remnants of sauce that lingered on his plate with the last piece of bread. "I told you she was out of her mind!"

"She's just going through a tough time at the moment," Esme spoke, her face red with embarrassment as she molded her hand over Jasper's. "I think we all have to cut her some slack."

Edward looked at her incredulously, wondering how in the world anyone could cut a raging psycho like Rosalie Cullen some slack. He refrained from commenting, though, feeling it was neither his place nor the time to come between a child and her parents. Besides, he'd already caused more than enough trouble to last him a lifetime. There was no need, nor a desire on his part, to add to that.

"I'm sorry this happened," Carlisle finally spoke, his previous calm, good-natured face now betraying his silent rage. "I swear my daughter's not usually so poorly behaved. Even still…she had no right to act the way she did and I'll make sure she _will_ be sorry for it."

Edward nodded, his fists clenched in his lap as he remembered some of the hateful things that little piece of shit had yelled at his sister. _She should be sorry._

Jasper merely shrugged, his carefree nature making him avoid all strife when possible. "So, what's for dessert?"

And just like that, the natural order of things had been restored, all further conversations passing amicably as Edward got to know the two Cullens a little better and they, in turn, formed a clearer picture of the man who would be living under their roof for the next months.

Edward soon surmised his initial observation about Jasper had been pretty close to the mark; the younger Cullen displaying great intelligence and, most of all, commitment to society and nature that were rarely ever encountered in guys his age. Though Edward didn't fully share his extreme views on forestry and politics, he knew that with Jasper, he'd probably never want for a topic of discussion.

Carlisle was, in many ways, the older version of his son, both sharing a contemplative nature, though perhaps the older Cullen more so as age had mellowed the extremity of his youth, both intelligent and avid avoiders of difficult situations. His work had been his driving passion in life, taking up time he knew he should be spending at home with his wife and kids and never leaving his mind, not even when the demands of his body or government regulations did manage to have him amongst his family.

There had been times when he had felt the guilt about it very fiercely, especially when his first marriage started to show signs of breaking. However, his dedication to the sick and the needy had always won out. He knew that, though his children and his wife needed him, his patients needed him more. Lives depended on him.

Nevertheless, he also knew Rosalie had crossed a line; his youngest always having been the more headstrong and seditious of his brood. The things she'd said about his wife and the young woman he had come to admire so much over the course of the last few months being so inexcusable that he needed to act, and swiftly too, before his daughter would be beyond his reach. And so, after taking Edward aside after dinner to get the full story about what had passed earlier that day, he excused himself to go upstairs, determined to have a long and difficult conversation with his little girl, while Esme and Edward busied themselves with the arduous task of cleaning up.

"You shouldn't blame Rosalie too much for the things she said," Esme spoke, breaking a silence that had become too tense for comfort. "This is a very difficult time for her."

"Oh, please!" Edward huffed, still not quite understanding how his sister could forgive her stepdaughter so easily for the horrible things she'd said. "Are you really going to let her get away with this so easily? I thought you, of all people, would have had more fight in her."

"Of course I'm not letting her get away with it 'just like that'!" Esme scolded him, pursing her lips as, for a moment, her attention became fixed on scrapping plates. "I'm just saying that this is probably the worst I've seen her to date, so no matter what I've told you before or what you've heard tonight, please don't think this is what she's really like." She sighed, her hands dropping by her side as she stacked the last empty plate on the counter. "I'm afraid it's her mother talking."

Edward looked up from his task of putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher, his brows furrowing as he stared at his sister, trying to remember if she'd ever told him something about the woman. "Her mother?"

"Lillian," Esme nodded. "Rosalie spent most of her summer with her, though Jasper chose to remain in Forks." She let out another deep sigh, leaning listlessly against the counter as she went on. "Rose and Lillian have always been very close, which is why it's very hard for her to live here, hundreds of miles away from where she wants to be and with a woman she despises for no other reason than she sees her as the deciding factor in the demise of her parents' marriage."

"But you're not, are you?"

"No." She shook her head, sipping from the half-empty glass of wine she'd brought with her from the dining room. "By the time I met Carlisle, there was no saving their marriage. In fact, I think Lillian may have already had her eyes on the position as a marine biologist that would condemn Rosalie to living with her dad."

Edward knew he'd heard something about that before but with everything had been going on at the time and afterwards, he had a hard time recalling just what. "She started working on a research ship, didn't she?"

"I can't believe you remember all that?" Esme sounded pleasantly surprised, making her brother, in turn, flash a smug smile. "She did, which means that for most of the year, she gets to forget she ever had kids, while Carlisle and I are left to pick up the pieces."

"But then what's with the whole 'stepmom issue'?" Edward asked, still not quite understanding why Rosalie would hate Esme so much when it was clear his sister was the only one who could be bothered to actually do some parenting.

"I guess I forgot to mention that Lillian is a master manipulator," Esme chuckled wryly. "For the weeks she gets to spend with Rosalie, she makes sure she's completely available and the perfect mommy-figure for Rose. I don't know how she does it but every time Rose goes out there, she comes back thinking I'm the devil and behaves completely abominable for a couple of weeks until somehow Carlisle and I managed to wear her down again. I'm afraid you got caught in the middle of that tonight."

Edward nodded, the whole episode starting to make more sense to him now that he had the whole picture, though he still retained his very low opinion of the girl. The silence that settled in after that was much easier to bear; both siblings working side by side until the question that had been burning in Edward's throat ever since he got back from his walk, managed to spill out in an unguarded moment. "So, you know this Isabella Harrison?"

Esme grinned, wondering where this sudden fascination of her brother's came from. "Not that well. She lives with her uncle outside town and neither of them seems to be too big on socializing. I've seen her around town a few times, though."

"Oh." Edward nodded, slightly disappointed his curiosity remained insatiate.

"I could ask Carlisle, though?" Esme suggested. "I think her uncle is one of his patients."

"Nah, never mind." Edward shrugged, trying to hide his true feelings behind a mask of indifference. He had a feeling Carlisle didn't have a really high opinion of him to begin with. Fishing around for information on patients' family members would only get him deeper into trouble.

And God knew he needed no more trouble than that which had already landed on his plate.

He sighed, shutting the dishwasher door as his sister operated a sleek state-of-the-art coffee maker. He had to be on top of his game, proving to his new colleagues he was more than the scandal that had followed him to Forks and, slowly but surely, try to earn their trust. He needed distractions, especially when they came in the shape of a woman who appeared to be at least ten years his junior, like he needed a hole in the head.

No. He would be better off forgetting all about that girl.

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_**Please review.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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**4.**

_**The hospital**_

That night, Edward found out silence really could be deafening, his body tossing and turning on his new bed as he tried to shake the feeling of restlessness that had taken hold as soon as he lay down.

It was too quiet, the only changes in the monotonous silence being caused by the faraway screeching of animals or the odd snapping of wood. It was nothing like the sounds he'd known at home. In Chicago, though he'd only lived in neighborhoods that were advertised as 'quiet' and 'upscale', there was always the background of buzzing cars or the faraway wailing of a siren to lull him to sleep.

But Forks? Nothing. Not even a bunch of idiots running amuck on their way back from whatever boozing hole they'd stumbled out of.

It was only when the first sounds of the awakening town brought some change in the monotonous silence that he managed to nod off into that deep sleep he'd been craving in between all those frustrating shallow drifts – finally. Though even in his dreams, the memory of brown eyes, pale skin and fire-spitting anger remained with him, making his body twist in the sheets and giving his mind no real rest.

It was somewhere around ten in the morning when he woke up, disoriented and still dead tired but knowing that, if he was going to report for duty at the hospital in three hours, he'd better get up and get ready. It was a good thing he'd always stuck to having his suits, color-coordinated Oxfords and matching ties hanging together in just the way the helpful sales-assistants had managed to piece them together; the only real decision left to him being the color of the shoes – one of the four pairs of work-appropriate dress shoes he owned. It was a virtually fail-safe system.

It was a good thing, too, since his mind was a sleep-deprived, nervous mess, constantly bordering on a state between sheer excitement and blind panic at the prospect of going back to work…back to the hospital.

"My, my," Esme grinned, ostentatiously fanning herself with a piece of paper as Edward trudged down the stairs. "Don't you look dashing for your first day. Mommy would have been so proud. Did she pick out that flashy suit of yours or were you allowed to shop on your own?"

He, very maturely, stuck out his tongue, smoothing down the silk of his tie as he made a bee line for the coffee maker, his sister's laughter ringing out behind him as he tried to get to grips with the new piece of machinery. "How the hell does one even operate this thing?" he finally grumbled, as his fourth attempt at brewing a fresh cup of coffee met with a murky, watery substance. "I didn't know you needed a fucking degree in engineering just to get a cup of coffee in the morning!"

"Awww!" Esme cooed, rising from her spot at the kitchen table. "Is the mean machine keeping your coffee hostage? Let your big sister help you out with that!"

"Just get the damn thing to work!" Edward grumbled, his eyes following Esme's hands as she got the offending piece of equipment to function without a hitch.

"There!" she grinned, presenting him with a steaming mug of cappuccino. "All better now?"

"Slightly," he mumbled into his cup, the sharp, bitter taste of coffee blending with the softness of steamed milk on his tongue. _Heaven_.

"You were always a terrible grump in the mornings," she teased, patting an empty bit of table across from her as Edward grabbed a Danish from the nearly empty box on the counter. "It's refreshing to see how some things never change."

"What are you working on?" Edward, eager to change the subject, let his eyes glide over the rough sketches Esme had scribbled on the back of what appeared to be the back of a torn envelope.

"Some ideas I got for a bathroom-remodeling job I'm doing for the Kings while I was reading the paper," Esme muttered, her hand almost twitching above her pencil with her impatience to get back with work.

"Don't let me keep you," Edward shrugged, sipping his coffee as he tried to wriggle the discarded newspaper from underneath the envelope while trying to make sense of the phrase 'bathroom-remodeling'. He couldn't fathom why people would want to mess with such a tiny, functional space unless of course the sink was falling down or something. Which he somehow doubted was the case.

Before five minutes had passed he was ready to burst; the unanswered question in his mind making him twitchy as he peered at his sister's sketches from behind his paper. "What the hell is a bathroom remodeling job?"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to ask," Esme giggled, putting her pencil down again as she glanced at the clock. "Almost five minutes. I'm impressed."

"I'm learning," Edward ruefully conceded. "What I don't understand is why people could possibly want to remodel their bathroom. I mean, I take it there's already a functioning bath and sink in there, right?"

"That's where you are wrong," Esme smiled, glancing at her sketches with the satisfaction of an artist knowing that the ideas in her head had transferred onto paper. "You think only in ways of function and practicality where most of my clients…" She shrugged, toying with her pencil. "They just want everything to look pretty and _en vogue_."

"What the hell could be 'en vogue' about a bathroom?" Edward wondered, still not seeing the point. To him, a bathroom was a bunch of tiles interspaced with the odd showerhead or bathtub, toilet and sink and maybe one of those special radiators that kept your towels warm. How on earth something like that could ever become fashionable eluded him.

"You'd be amazed!" Esme grinned, going back to her sketches as a new idea popped into her head.

"It looks great." Even upside down and in the crudest of outlines, he could already see the bathroom taking shape; a huge black tub surrounded by black and white scenes from the ancient Greek mythology set in mosaic. It looked like something that could be in Home and Gardens, not on the back of an envelope. "I love what you're doing with the mosaic stuff."

"Thanks!" Esme's smile was radiant, the tip of her tongue appearing in-between her lips as she put the finishing touches to the sketch. "I read something about the financial cluster-fuck in Greece and this idea popped into my head. It's based on some of the stuff I saw when I was doing the rounds through Europe." She sighed, sitting back as she appraised her work. "Not that the Kings would appreciate my artistry, though. If Anne King has ever heard about the story of the Minotaur I'd be very surprised. They'll probably only care about the fact that I'm using gold accents and that the whole thing will cost more than most people make in a year."

"Maybe you should use the story of Midas and his golden touch instead!" Edward joked.

"Now that's an idea!" His sister grinned, bumping his fist like they always used to do when they were younger. "I doubt they'd even notice it unless someone pointed it out to them. And it's very fitting too."

"So, the Kings get off on having money, huh?" Edward wondered, trying to form a picture in his mind of the people he'd probably soon encounter 'in the wild'.

"You could say that again!" Esme snorted. "Richard King owns – or better said, inherited, since I don't think the man ever worked a damn day in his life – the largest mill in town and Anne is very high up at the local branch of Sterlings, though I think she only stays there so that the Kings have the inside scoop on practically every dime that goes around in town."

"Isn't that supposed to be illegal?" Edward frowned.

"I bet it is," Esme shrugged, "but you'll soon find out that when it comes to Forks, the Kings are…well, Kings. They are a law on their own around here, which makes their son the uncrowned prince of Forks."

"He's Rosalie's boyfriend, isn't he?" Edward racked his brain, trying to create some order in the chaos.

"Yep. Though I'd seriously doubt if my 'darling step-daughter' would have found him so attractive if his parents weren't so loaded," she confirmed. "Leave it to Rosalie to find the few pompous assholes out here and call them her friends!"

"So, there's more like them?" Edward cringed, the idyllic picture of Forks as the laidback paradise his sister had painted for him the day before suddenly starting to show cracks.

"A few, but most of them converging around the Kings like the sun shines out of their backsides," Esme answered, counting off the names on her fingers. "Let's see….there's the Crowleys, though Tom isn't so bad if you've got him on his own, and, of course, the Newtons; the local leisurewear moguls."

"Leisurewear moguls?" Edward snorted. If bathroom remodeling had sounded strange to him before, they were no match against his sister's latest linguistic creation.

Esme smirked. "They own this huge store that sells outdoor supplies right on the edge of town. I think we passed it on our way in yesterday. They are horrible, self-important people, which might explain why they get along so well with the Kings."

"It's just like back home, then," Edward smiled ruefully, finishing his coffee. "Only with more mud and less people."

"True!" Esme snickered, glancing at the clock on the kitchen counter. "Don't you have to get going if you want to pick up your car before your shift at the hospital starts?"

_Oh crap!_ Edward cringed, noticing, as his eyes followed his sisters' that he'd have to rush if he wanted to get everything done in time. "Where is this garage again?"

With his sister's directions he managed to find Call's Car Repairs, which happened to be just down the street from the 7Eleven, just like about everything else the town had to offer. After a brief stand-off with the cocky garage employee who looked like he should have been in school, he managed to make it to the hospital with time to spare.

The only problem was, though, finding the right way into the maze of small, two-story buildings that seemed to have been merged together over the years. The only thing they'd apparently forgotten, during those mergers, was creating a door that could be recognized as such. There were only windows, as far as he could see, though Edward suspected that crawling in through one of them wouldn't make a great first impression on his new colleagues and patients.

"Hello?" he called out, trying to get the attention of a nurses marching across the parking lot at a breakneck speed but, though he didn't manage to catch her attention over the noise of her iPod, following her did bring him to what appeared to be a staff entrance.

"I swear I'm not stalking you!" he chuckled when the nurse turned around, looking a little started to find a stranger trying to sneak into the building behind her. She finally took the buds out of her ears, thundering basses thumping into the air surrounding them before she switched off the device. "I'm new around here and looking for a way in."

"You know? You're not the first one to say that!" she grinned, trying to hide the effect the handsome, auburn haired stranger had on her by taking a leaf out of her younger brother's book and acting as bold as brass. "I'm Rachel, by the way. Rachel Black."

"Edward Masen." He reached out, his hand folding around Rachel's as she took it. "I'm supposed to report for duty at Dr. Cullen's office." He smiled as her small hand disappeared into his, taking the opportunity to check out his new colleague. _All in the name of getting to know one of the people he was going to work with, of course._

She was pretty, that was a fact, but in a very open, uncomplicated way; her tan skin and dark features betraying what Edward assumed was a Native American heritage and her demeanor friendly but confident; just the kind of thing he liked to see in a woman. _Yeah, he definitely wasn't going to mind working side by side with her._

"Follow me," she sang coyly, making sure she had an extra sway to her step as she took off, craning her head over her shoulder to address the new doc on the ward. "I'll lead the way."

From the inside, the hospital looked just like any other he'd been in, though maybe a little smaller and less hectic than the big hospitals back east which had been his teaching grounds.

Walking in, they found themselves right in the middle of the ER; a small waiting area to their left near the carefully hidden main entrance, with a big reception area/nurses station separating it from the curtained off treatment areas and the ORs. On the far end of the vast open space, near what Edward, based on his experience, assumed would be the operating rooms, a set of elevators and a flight of stairs led to the upstairs space where, if Edward assumed right, the Intensive Care Unit and most of the patients' wards would be. _Just like back in Chicago, only a lot smaller. _

"You're lucky," Rachel called over her shoulder, her hips still swaying rhythmically to the excited drum of her heart, though maybe a little more pronounced than she intended. "It seems to be a slow morning."

"I can see that," Edward chuckled as he looked around, most beds empty as nurses hung around making sure everything was prepped and ready to receive patients or chatting by the nurses' station.

"Contrary to what it may look like, we _do_ get busy sometimes," Rachel, reading the unspoken words off his face grinned. "You should have seen the place last year when there was a big pile up on the 101 just outside town…" She shook her head, a shudder running down her spine at the thought of what icy roads and heavy trucks could do to the human body. "It was like this place turned into hell in the span of fifteen minutes."

Edward nodded, having seen the organized pandemonium of a hospital in full disaster mode more times than he cared to remember.

"It doesn't happen a lot, though." Rachel's grin widened as she leaned against the front desk, quickly grabbing a chart and letting her eyes run over the notes scribbled on top before placing in back. "You'll find Dr. Cullen on the first floor." Her finger pointed at a corridor leading off behind the nurses' station. "Third door on the left. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." He smiled at her before setting off in the direction she'd pointed out, his back already turned before he could see the effect of his perfect white teeth and crooked grin on the poor, unsuspecting nurse.

"I'll be seeing ya!" she called after him, her voice a little shaky as she stealthily fanned herself with a chart, already looking forward to showing the new guy the ropes. _Who needed McDreamy when you had Dr. Fuckhot running around your own, local hospital?_

Edward, meanwhile, wasn't so steady on his feet either, his nerves multiplying with every step he took up the stairs and down a corridor leading off from the first floor landing until he stood in front of the office, wishing his face didn't betray the way he was feeling on the inside. He was sure Carlisle already knew he was a mess, without actually having to see it. Besides, he wanted to make a good, professional impression on his first day back as a doctor. He _had_ to. It was the only chance he got at getting back to what he loved best: practicing medicine.

Forks General Hospital might have been a far cry from the prestigious, challenging environment he'd worked in back in Chicago but at least he was going to be treating patients again. His hand twitched by his side at the thought of being able to hold a scalpel or even a suture needle again. _God he missed it._

This was a first step; a stepping stone on his way back to St. Mary's and the job he'd worked so hard for. Six months in Forks and he would be back there, in the home stretch towards redemption. Six months to prove that he had mastered his demons and had what it took to come back from his 'sabbatical'. _Six months of super-imposed exile. _

"I can do this," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he summoned the memories of what it used to be, of why he loved being a doctor, strengthening his resolve and finally making him raise his hand and knock.

"Come in," Carlisle's voice announced, his tight smile greeting Edward before he went back to the discussion he'd been having with Nora, his secretary.

Edward sat, his legs twitching nervously under the desk as he waited for Carlisle to finish up his conversation. From the sounds of it, the hospital had hit a snag trying to work out the latest budget cuts while still maintaining the standard of care it wanted to offer the people depending on it. _Just like everywhere else…_

Finally Nora said her goodbyes, shutting the door quietly as she went back to her adjacent office, leaving the two doctors alone in the room.

"I've got your contract here," Carlisle started. "I'd like to go over a few things with you first, before we get you settled in. Is that okay?"

Edward nodded. "It's fine by me."

"The first half is pretty standard, just the usual run-of-the-mill stuff that every contract in our field contains." Carlisle slid a small stack of papers across the table so that Edward could read along. "It's what you can expect from us as your employers and what we, in turn, will be expecting from you."

Again, Edward nodded, his eyes running over the letters. Carlisle was right, it was a pretty standard contract, though he suspected that the 'opportunities' the hospital had to offer probably paled in comparison to what he'd become used to at St. Mary's, which was, after all, one of the most renowned hospitals in the greater Chicago area.

"The second part is quite specific, as it's tailored to your _particular_ situation," Carlisle added, his words chosen like a true diplomat. "Of course there will be rules," he went on, "some of them may be a little draconic but, hopefully not so much so that they surpass what is reasonable. Just the things we need to make sure you don't get led into temptation and we can get to know and trust you, and work from there."

_Okay, here it comes_, Edward thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as Carlisle sat back, regarding him with pale blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

"No matter how extenuating your circumstances were at the time, you committed one of the cardinal sins in medicine. Stealing from the hospital pharmacy and performing procedures while under the influence…" His lips pressed into a hard line as he shook his head in distaste, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. "That's something no _respectable_ doctor would ever do."

Edward sighed. _As if he needed further proof of Carlisle's low opinion of him or the consequences of the mess he'd created._ "I know."

"However," Carlisle went on, "I am a firm believer in second chances, as are my fellow doctors at this hospital. Which is why we are prepared to give you a chance to prove yourself, provided you _will_ be able to play by the rules this time around."

"Okay," Edward nodded firmly, "let me have it."

"You'll be under a full probation for the first half of your stay here, which will mean that either I or one of my colleagues signs off on all of your cases…" Edward nodded, already having expected as much, as he listened to the continuation of Carlisle's speech "…and for the time being, you will be strictly prohibited from prescribing or administering narcotics unless supervised by a medical specialist. You will also agree to attend weekly sessions with a hospital approved psychiatrist and will submit to monthly, as well as, un-announced blood and urine tests. Any breach of these rules will mean your instant and irrevocable dismissal from this hospital. Am I making myself clear?"

"What if there's an urgent case coming into the ER?" Edward, who, again, had been prepared for all those terms, wanted to know. It'd been the worry which had been plaguing his mind from the moment Dr. Adkinson had told him were the likely stipulations attached to his return to practicing medicine. "Will I be able to push pain meds or do I have to wait until someone's available to hold my hand?" He hated the thought of people being in pain because of something he did.

Carlisle's face softened, his concerns slightly lessening when he noticed Edward's obvious dedication to his patients. "As long as there's a senior nurse standing by and the situation absolutely requires it, I believe it would be allowed."

"Thank you," Edward muttered, the enormity of the endeavor he was about to embark on slowly starting to sink in. He would have to start again, from scratch, knowing that this time he wasn't just the lowest post on the totem pole, but that everyone around him would be watching his every move with a wary eye, waiting for him to screw up again.

And this was only the beginning. If he managed to get through these first three months and then through the next three of what he assumed would be a slightly more relaxed supervision, there was still the Herculean task of winning back the trust of his former peers and superiors at St. Mary's.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, his hand shaking as he picked up the pen and signed the contract Carlisle had pushed in front of him. _Another step on the long way back. But he was going to make it. He _had_ to. _

"Okay." He nodded, his tone a little lighter as he was finally satisfied that Edward knew what he was getting into. "Now if you want to follow me, I'll give you the grand tour before we throw you into the deep end."

Edward chuckled, relieved to have the 'business end' of the meeting over and done with. "Can we start with how to get in and out of the building? I had to stalk one of your nurses to get into this place earlier. I think I scared her half to death."

"Rachel?" Carlisle grinned, his hand firm around the door handle. "I believe it takes a lot more to scare her. You better watch out, Edward, I think she's set her eye on you. You've been the talk of the hospital long before you even set foot in town. From what I've heard, most of the nurses have been counting the days until the 'young, new big-city doctor' arrived in town."

Edward grinned as he followed Carlisle back down the stairs and into the main hub of the hospital. "You know what they say about doctors and nurses," he joked, shrugging his shoulders as he followed his brother-in-law back down to the ground floor. "It's a good thing I'm not a complete dog to look at, then. They might have been sorely disappointed."

"You'd do better to keep your eyes on your patients," Carlisle chuckled at his young brother-in-law's cocky confidence, his tone serious again as he caught the coy smile his charge nurse flashed at the newest member of their staff as they walked past the nurses' desk. "I don't think I have to tell you what will happen if you mess this up because you get distracted by 'side issues', do I?"

Edward shook his head, his shoulders drooping as he trudged on, not daring to chance another look at Rachel. "No, I'm perfectly aware of that."

"Good." Carlisle nodded and looked at the young doctor next to him to leave him in no doubt of Edward's dedication to the job. Edward, his eyes still trained to the floor, almost bumped into him as he came to a sudden stop in front of the doors.

"This is the main entrance," he started, waving at a set of double, sliding doors. "It's kind of hidden behind the ambulance bay, which explains why you missed it."

"Right." Edward looked around, trying to familiarize himself with the space and the configuration of the building. "So the ambulance bay shares the same entrance?"

"Yes," Carlisle smirked, wondering what the hotshot doctor from Chicago thought of his humble new surroundings. "It's a bit awkward at times, but there aren't that many urgent, critical cases around here, so most of the times we get by just fine."

"So, not that busy, huh?" Edward smiled, hoping this would mean more time to hone his skills and get back into the swing of things without having chaos erupting all around him every hour of the day.

"Oh, it's still busy," Carlisle warned him, "just in a different way. I'll tell you more about it later on." He took off again, his hand lithely touching Edward's shoulder urging the younger man to follow as they crossed the small waiting room. They toured the emergency section of the hospital, which consisted of two ORs and a line of beds divided from each other and the rest of the room by a row of slightly color washed light blue curtains.

"With the hospital being a small one, there's not many of us manning the hospital, which means that at any given time you will be either on duty, on call or on backup duty at home," he announced, his voice low and professional as he stopped to quickly check an elderly woman's pulse and scribbled something onto her chart. "Apart from myself, only two other surgeons practice at this hospital. Dr. Mark Banner, who's upstairs performing an appendectomy, and Dr. Maggie Molina, who's off duty right now."

"But you're the chief, right?" Edward asked, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Three surgeons seemed to be an awfully low number, especially taking into account that one of them had to divide his time between the OR and his desk.

"In name, yes," Carlisle smirked, "one of us has to be in charge and since, apparently, Mark and Maggie seem to think I have a knack for the administrative side of things, they shanghaied me into taking this job, but it's not like I ever really exercise my powers. I think all three of us have a perfect understanding of what's needed and how it needs to be done. It's probably very different from what you're used to."

"You can say that again!" Edward snorted, thinking back on Northwestern with its clear definition of hierarchy.

"As far as the ER goes, most of the time we're just here to patch people up and have them transported – by road, if they're stable, by air if their situation is more urgent – to Port Angeles or Seattle." Carlisle went on as the grand tour took them upstairs to where the patient rooms and another two operating rooms were located. "There are three additional doc's – Beckett, Havers and Lloyd – taking care of the patients down here that don't need surgical attention, though most of the time whoever is on call upstairs usually pitches in even if just to escape the boredom."

"But you do some procedures here, right?" Edward asked, remembering hearing something about an appendectomy just now. _Appendectomies_. There had been a time when, in his arrogance, he had almost considered himself above such simple procedures but now? He would kill to be able to perform a surgery again, no matter how basic. Hell, he'd even settle for an in-grown toenail if it meant he got to see the inside of an OR again. _Who would have thought?_

"We do," Carlisle confirmed, "but just the minor cases, nothing too extravagant." He chuckled, adding in a joking tone, "We're just a bunch of lowly general surgeons around here. You won't find any fancy brain surgeons around this hospital!"

"Apart from me!" Edward corrected him, grinning cockily.

"A disgraced one," Carlisle shot back. "So, are you ready to be left to the mercy of the ER staff or do you need me to hold your hand any longer?"

"Nope." Edward retained his cockiness, his fingers twitching to perform, no matter how menial the procedure and stringent the terms. "I'm good to go."

Carlisle nodded, silently escorting his brother-in-law back to the nurses' station where he introduced him to Theo Havers, the doctor who would be supervising Edward that day. "Just remember: no handling of narcotics and one of us signs off on all of your cases. If you find yourself in trouble, have them page Dr. Banner or me, or just ask one of the ER attendings. _No heroics_."

Edward shook his head, confirming once more that he was well aware of the rules. "I'll be fine," he reassure him once again, "I may be a little rusty at first but trust me, I've learned from my mistakes."

"Then get to it." Carlisle managed to keep his worries and doubts out of his face as he smiled, patting Edward on the back in a fake show of confidence to the staff. "Welcome on board Dr. Cullen."

He watched as Edward made his way over to the nurses' station and chatted with Rachel before she presented him with a chart and send him off to his first patient of the day, quietly conferring with Dr. Havers on the right amount of leeway the new doc should be given on his first day back into the field before he watched all of them disappear behind the curtain that hid their patient from view. It unnerved him to take a risk like that, even though most of the hospital staff had been behind his decision and even the Board of Directors of the cluster of hospitals Forks General belonged to had given their consent. It was still a gamble, though, and one he didn't like to make, knowing his patients would be the ones to suffer if it fell through.

From the documentation he'd received from Northwestern, he knew Edward was as talented a doctor as they came, already having proven himself over and over again during his internship and residency and, prior to his fall from grace, on his way to making a name for himself in his chosen field of neurosurgery.

He was the kind of doctor who would never have set foot inside Forks General Hospital unless he should happen to end up there as a patient. Being as it was, however, Edward was lucky to be able to work at any hospital and Carlisle was the one taking the huge risk of adding an ex-drug addict to his staff.

He would have been lying if he didn't admit that hiring his wife's brother had been something he'd wanted to do but, as so many men before him, he'd found himself entrapped by the feminine wiles of his wife and unable to refuse her that which she desires most: to help out her little brother. After some lengthy and very heated discussions with his fellow doctors, they'd decided to take the gamble and having him sign on, though be it on the strictest of terms and under ever-watching eyes.

Carlisle sighed, his eyes still fixed on the baby blue curtain. Right then, his feelings about the young man even more conflicted than they had been to begin with. There was something about him that reminded him of himself when he was younger; the drive and eagerness to learn and prove himself, as well as, the wish to make the most of any situation, even if it turned out to be a huge step backwards, all making him want to like the guy. But still, the way Edward had blatantly endangered his patients and put the whole hospital at risk by performing and assisting procedures while under the influence, were things that he could not overlook and he knew that, had his last name been anything else but 'Masen' he would not have ever wanted the man to set foot in his hospital.

No. As he snuck back up the stairs to settle in for a tedious day of paperwork, he knew that, as hypocritical as they were, these were the choices he'd made and he would have to stick with them to the very end. Edward had declared himself ready to come back and practice medicine again and he would have to trust his judgment without constantly looking over his shoulder. Even though, God knew, he wanted to.

Meanwhile, Edward was finding his return to action harder than he thought it would be; neither his mind, nor his fingers acted as quick and precise as they used to do, in spite of all the medical journals he'd devoured and many hours of practicing sutures on his practice pad. After his first patient, who had been treated under the sharp and constant supervision of Dr. Havers, the latter had deemed him capable enough to treat the next few on his own, though it hadn't escaped Edward's notice that his supervisor seemed to constantly hover in the distance.

Fortunately, most of the cases that entered the ER that day seemed to revolve around vomiting, flu-ridden kids and adults, mishaps in gym class and the odd lumberman injury. Nothing too trying or dangerous. They were the kind of cases which, a few months ago, he could have treated with his eyes closed; the ones that made him hate being the on-call attending for the ER.

"This is pretty much your typical day at the office," Rachel remarked as they walked away from a guy who'd gotten his hand stuck between a tree and a piece of logging equipment. "Further along in the winter, we usually see an influx of traffic accidents when the roads get slippery from the snow and then, of course, we get a lot of tourists in the summer."

"Tourists?" Edward snorted, not quite seeing what was so dangerous about Forks to have drones of vacationers end up in the ER.

"Yes. Tourists," Rachel's snarky grin was back, adding a touch of danger to her beautiful, dark Native-American features. "You know? Cocky, city boys like you who think just because they've watched a few episodes of 'Man vs. Wild' and bought a snazzy pair of outdoor boots, they're suddenly the new Bear Grylls."

"Cocky, city boys like me?" Edward snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, don't deny it!" Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes as she finished adding some new information into a chart. "I bet you don't even own a pair of gumboots!"

Edward cringed. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

"Don't sweat it, city boy!" Rachel grinned, playfully rubbing his shoulder. "We'll make a mountain man out of you yet. As far as cocky, big city doctors go, you're not so bad any way."

Edward grinned, deciding to take her snarky remark as a compliment. "You're not so bad yourself either. For a small-town girl with a big mouth, that is."

"Touché," she ginned, averting her eyes as she summoned up every ounce of brass she could muster before taking the plunge. "Hey, are you doing anything on Friday night?"

She let out a small breath of relief as Edward shook his head. "A few of us are heading over to Sam's after our shift and I was wondering if you'd like to join us? It would be great way to get to know a few people around here."

Edward knew her invitation for what it was, her words leaving little room for doubt. Even if he hadn't gotten the message by the way she'd been flashing many not-so-stealthy glances at him all day when she thought he wasn't looking or just happened to be close whenever he needed the help of one of the nursing staff.

_Why not?_ he thought, quickly weighing the pros and cons of going on a date, or at least something close to it, with one of his co-workers. They were both consenting adults and, as long as she was left in no doubt of what he was willing to offer her, he didn't see any harm in it. It would just be sex; no strings attached and no promises of more. Just two people cashing in on a mutual attachment.

"I think you're right," he finally nodded, his ego a little bruised at basically being asked out by a girl. "Can I get back to you on it, though? I'm not sure if my sister made plans already."

She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her cool. "I'm always right. Now excuse me, I have patients to attend to." And just like that, she walked away from him again, choosing to do her squealing in the privacy of the women's locker room.

"Right." Edward let out a whooshing breath, scratching the back of his head as he tried to take stock of what the hell was going on. A date, that was about it. Esme would be over the moon to find out he already had a date and Rachel…she was a nice girl, just the kind of easy going girl he needed to get back into the saddle.

Still, there was this thing, this gnawing doubt in the back of his mind that he couldn't put his finger on; a sense that he was making a mistake by getting caught up with the first girl who happened to charm her way into his life.

_What the fuck?_ Edward's frown deepened as he started to wonder if all the intensive therapy he'd undergone over the past months had somehow screwed with his genetics and turned him into a simpering little girl_. Nope. No tits in sight. Just acting like one._

Deciding then and there to quit over-thinking things before he would, indeed, grow a pair of tits and turn into a complete girl, he grabbed another chart, hoping that little Seth Clearwater and his croup would get his mind out of the funk it had somehow landed in.

A few more hours of treating patients, running tests and updating charts and Edward really started to feel the strain of being back in the saddle; the weeks of idleness not only messing with his skills but, apparently, also with his stamina.

_Only two more hours_. He sighed, glancing at the clock in-between patients, his mind slugging and his eyes stinging with the lack of sleep. He was determined to keep up, though, forcing his mind back into a state of alertness as he stealthily rubbed his eyes as he exited the little curtained off room.

"Edward?" He looked up to find Carlisle standing close to him, his eyes following Edward's every move just like they had been doing for most of the day. "A word, please?"

Carlisle motioned for Edward to follow him to his office, the door clicking shut behind them for the second time that day.

"Is something the matter?" Edward asked, mentally taking stock of his day to find if there was anything that might have displeased his new boss.

"No," Carlisle answered lightly. "I just wanted to know how things are going so far."

"Good…I think," Edward answered hesitantly, his confusion rising with every second that passed. "It's a little harder to get back into the swing of things than I thought it would be, but so far I'm managing just fine, I guess."

"Good." Carlisle nodded, an awkward silence settling over the room.

Edward was still racking his brain over why Carlisle had called him into his office, since he didn't believe for a second he'd been called in just to chat about his day. Could it have been he'd overheard him talking to Rachel?

"I have a confession to make." Edward looked up in nervous anticipation as Carlisle finally spoke. "My reasons for giving you a shot here at this hospital weren't completely altruistic." Carlisle smiled a little guiltily, smoothing a crease in one of the papers strewn across his desk. "I have a patient that has so far proven to be a huge challenge to my abilities and, seeing that you bring a very particular set of skills to the table, I was wondering if you'd be willing to help me treat this man."

"Okay." Edward nodded, still not quite knowing how to act. _Help_. He could do that, right? There was no harm in helping…or so he'd been brought up to believe. "What can I do?"

Carlisle sat back, his hands folded over his stomach as he slowly blew out a deep breath, feeling both his failure at being what his patient needed, as well as, his excitement at the prospect of what Edward's expertise could mean for both of them. "Tell me," he started, his tone low and almost conspiratorial, "What do you know about Fatal Familial Insomnia?"

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_**Please review. **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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**5.**

_**The patient**_

"_Tell me. What do you know about Fatal Familial Insomnia?" _

_He had to be kidding._ As Edward sat there, across the table, staring at Carlisle with open mount, that was the predominant thought running through his head. "FFI?" he finally managed to breathe, his voice cut off by his barely containable excitement. "Are you sure about that?"

It had to be some kind of mistaken diagnosis. Either that or Carlisle was testing him or merely pulling his leg. As rare as cases of Fatal Familial Insomnia or FFI were, even in _his_ chosen field, he'd never heard of any popping up in the State of Washington.

"I'm sure," Carlisle answered, calm as a summer sea.

"Here in _Forks_?" Edward rubbed his face again, though this time the gesture came not from fatigue, but from shock.

Carlisle smiled ruefully, quite enjoying the flustered state he'd managed to get his young colleague in. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Yes?" Edward was quick to reply. "There's only forty families in the world suffering from this disease and, as far as I know, none of them live around here." Even in the field of neurology, the disease was so rare that only handful of doctors would ever get to deal with it. Even in the US there were only two centers of expertise – UCLA in California and the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio –that studied the disease and dealt with diagnosing and supporting these patients. Supporting being the emphasis of what they did to help those unfortunate enough to have this disease running in their family, since there was little else the medical world could do. It was part of what made the disease so mysterious and fascinating.

"So what _do_ you know?" Carlisle leaned forward again, his keen blue eyes filled with anticipation.

"Let me think." Edward breathed out, mentally surveying everything he'd read about the disease over the years. "It's an extremely rare genetic disease that's one hundred percent fatal. It's limited to only forty families worldwide with every child born into those families having a fifty/fifty chance of getting the disease and dying from it…"

"Good," Carlisle interrupted him, impatient to get to the things he himself _didn't_ know. "So you know your basics. What else do you know?"

"Patient zero – the first recorded sufferer of FFI – is believed to be a man from Venice, or its surroundings, who died at the hospital of San Servolo in 1765, which became the main source of treatment for FFI patients worldwide until the Università di Bologna took over as the main research center in Europe, working closely together with UCLA medical center among other hospitals in the US."

"Yes, yes, yes," Carlisle once again interrupted him impatiently. "But what do you know about the clinical picture?"

Edward chuckled, amused by his Carlisle's excitement. "The disease usually manifests itself somewhere between the ages of eighteen and sixty, starting with an increasing insomnia, psychiatric problems, hallucinations and leading into complete insomnia, loss of motor functions, rapid aging, dementia and finally death. The process can take from seven to thirty-six months to run its course, though most patients don't make it past the eighteen month mark, but eventually…"

"Tell me," Carlisle's eyes lit up as he had Edward where he needed him. "Have you ever heard of a patient who's still lucid and mobile at thirty months after their diagnosis?" He sat back, his lips curling into a smile as he watched Edward's face take on the expected, slack jawed expression; the same that had undoubtedly graced his own face when he found out.

"That's impossible," Edward stated when he finally picked his jaw up from the floor again, his voice resolute and certain. He'd read quite a few articles over the years about this disease that still baffled neurologists today, the way it had centuries ago. If there was anything those articles had taught him, it was that there was a fixed and very rapid pattern to the pathology. Once it started, the patient's days were numbered and rapidly running out.

"It's true," Carlisle stated in a tone that didn't yield pride of place to Edward's where it came to confidence. "It's all in here." He slid a thick file across the table, all of the pages bearing his signature or characteristic doctor's scribble. It was everything he'd managed to witness and discovered over the years about his most interesting and elusive patient.

"This…this is impossible…it can't be…" Edward muttered, repeating himself for lack of better words as his eyes immediately picked up on the date on the first admission form on the stack. Sure enough, it was two and a half years ago. Almost to the date.

"And yet it's happening right in front of our eyes," Carlisle added, nodding as Edward's eyes traveled over one page after the next, widening at every turn of the paper.

"Impossible," Edward muttered again, his eyes scanning over all the details of the patient's file with a growing sense of disbelieve. "How…why hasn't anyone heard of this?" The patient, if he truly was what Carlisle claimed him to be, was a clinical mystery…a medical miracle, the complete lack of progress of his disease being something Edward had never seen or heard of in his entire career.

"I know what you're thinking," Carlisle intervened before Edward's mind could spin out of orbit, "but, as always, the patient's wish is our command and this particular patient wants nothing more than to live out the remainder of his days in obscurity, sticking to the routine that has prolonged his life this far."

"He's not even seeing a neurologist?" Edward frowned as page after page covered in Carlisle's elegant, yet almost illegible, scribble was unveiled. No specialists…no neurology consults…just a general surgeon at a small town community hospital.

"Again, the patient wishes it so," Carlisle shrugged. It had been a point of much discussion between his patient and himself, and one that he had felt increasingly uncomfortable with. It wasn't in his nature to stand by and let a patient die when he knew there might be more that could be done, even if the patient himself didn't want it. "I believe he knows this disease better than anyone. He knows what he's up against and he chooses to face it the way he had planned."

Edward shook his head, the opportunities this patient offered to get a handle on one of the most impalpable neurologic diseases out there seeming too great to give up on. "But that's-"

"The patient's wish," Carlisle interrupted him sternly, "made and notarized when he still had all his mental faculties about him. We cannot do anything but respect his wish."

Edward nodded, his shoulders slumping in disappointment as his mind already spun in a different reaction. "How? How did he do it? How….how can a man evade death when he hasn't been able to sleep in…what, two and a half years?"

"I could tell you," Carlisle hedged, trying to hide his smile. "But how about I _show_ you?"

"S-show me?" Edward stammered, trying very hard not to show how inwardly he was feeling like a teenage girl offered front row seats at a Justin Bieber concert.

Carlisle smiled, strangely enjoying the position of power he held over his new young ward. The fact that he could see Edward's eyes sparkle where before they had been only dull and cautious made him realize how right he had been to give the young doctor a chance. It had been a risk, yes, but if taking the chance would be the thing to bring this very gifted young doctor back to life, then so be it. "Remember how I told you earlier that we might not always have a packed ER but we're busy in a different way?"

He waited for Edward to nod before he went on. "A part of being a country surgeon means taking on some tasks that the medical profession usually reserves for general practitioners."

"You mean…you make house calls?" Edward guessed.

"Around here, you can't really escape it," Carlisle shrugged. "Some of my patients don't exactly live next door to the hospital. With the government constantly cutting back on budgets, insurance companies pushing us to keep patients' hospitalization down to a bare minimum, it's sometimes all we can do to make sure our patients recover as they should." He smiled, memories of some of his more recent house calls popping up in his mind. "Besides, some of them are stubborn enough to think just because we've patched them up, everything is going to be okay."

"Ah yes!" Edward smirked. "We get those in Chicago as well. They think a band-aid and some iodine will fix just about everything."

"Exactly," Carlisle nodded and glanced at the clock immediately making him spring into action. "Let's get going. When it comes to James Harrison, punctuality is of vital importance."

_Harrison, where had he heard that name before?_ He knew the name had come up but between the stress of his first day back, and the sleepless night that had preceded it, Edward couldn't remember where. Much to his own frustration.

They clocked out and made sure Doctor Banner was ready and briefed to take over from Edward, before they piled into Carlisle's Mercedes, the engine purring smoothly as it rolled out of town and onto a small road into the depths of the lush green forest.

"It's like a different world out here," Edward muttered, his eyes following the strange almost alien shapes of the trees as they loomed up from the side of the road.

"You're right about that," Carlisle answered, his hand lightly touching the stick as he pushed the car into a different gear. "I always wondered why, out of all the different places in the world, James Harrison chose this place to spend his final days, but I guess he likes the solitude and tranquility of the forest." He paused, his mind wandering off for a while. "He and Isabella live a very remote life."

_Ah yes, Isabella. Isabella Harrison. _It was strange how, in the hustle and bustle of his first day back in the field, he'd almost forgotten about her but, what was even more peculiar, was the shockwave even the thought of her name send through his system. His hand clenched over his knee as the memories lingered of deep brown eyes and lush, pink lips sprang back into his mind. Thinking back on her and their strange first meeting sent a flush of excitement pulsing though his body at the prospect of seeing her again, and maybe finding the answers to some of the questions her very existence seemed to raise.

"Do you think that's what kept him alive all this time?" Edward asked. He knew, just like any doctor worth his paycheck, that the human body could not survive without the recuperation and relaxation of deep REM sleep. Where FFI patients could slumber and even drift off into sort of state between sleeping and waking, that rest and energy some usually felt waking up after a night's sleep would forever elude them until, in the end, the body would break down from sheer exhaustion.

It was an interesting thought, however, that by minimizing the impulses his brain would have to process, it might be able to slow the rapid degeneration for some time. Though it could never stall the process indefinitely.

James Harrison was going to die. Soon.

"It is what he believes," Carlisle nodded, the roar of the engine dying down to a slight rumble as he cut back the speed to navigate a sharp turn as the car charged up a steep incline. "It is also what makes him rather a singular man to be around."

"Singular?' Edward had heard that those suffering from FFI were known to develop all sorts of delusions as the exhausted brain started to lose control over itself.

"He doesn't trust anything or anyone, apart from Isabella and, to some extent, me," Carlisle explained. "Almost everything he eats is grown or prepared in the house and no one is allowed entrance without having been properly announced and checked."

Edward nodded. _Paranoia is one of the textbook signs of advancing FFI._ "He knows I'm coming, right?"

"Of course," Carlisle stated, sounding almost offended by the mere insinuation that he would spring a surprise visitor on a mentally unstable patient. "Do you really think I'd endanger all the long, hard work I've put in, earning his trust just like that? He knows you're coming and, I dare say, almost looks forward to it."

He chuckled, seeing Edward's surprised look. "I think he misses the life he used to lead back east," he clarified. "As many books and records as he owns, there's no deprivation quite like that of having someone to share it with."

"So that's going to be my angle?" Edward asked. "Engage him in conversation while trying to find out more about his disease and mental state?"

"That's the plan, yes," Carlisle answered, slowing down again as the road narrowed. "If there's one thing he dislikes, it's being made aware of the fact that he's sick, so please avoid any obvious forms of examination or even the mention of our profession."

"Tell me more about him." Edward leaned back, his eyes drinking in the beauty of the Olympic National Forest, though his mind was too engaged to really take it in. "You already told me that he likes to keep to himself and trusts no outside influences. What kind of life does he live?"

"He sticks to a very fixed routine, rising early – yes, he does go to bed every night even if it is, as he says, to meditate." Carlisle smiled, answering the unasked question, "and filling his days with study, exercise and, of course, writing."

"Writing?" Edward interrupted him, the idea of a patient suffering from a debilitating neurological disease that caused severe dementia doing any sort of writing, being as foreign to him as a walking, talking dog.

"Of course he gets a lot of help from his niece but yes," Carlisle nodded. "He is determined to finish his last novel before he meets his maker. After all, he has a reputation to uphold…or so he believes."

"Do I know him?" Edward wondered, trying to remember if he'd heard the name of Harrison before.

Carlisle shook his head, his eyes fixed on the road as he went on. "Probably not under his own name, though he did spend a good many years teaching English Literature at Harvard. You might know him under his _nom de plume_, though. Aro Volturi."

"Shit!" Edward gasped, remembering how he'd torn though all of Volturi's novels, and there were quite a few to say the least, during his rehab. "Aro Volturi is here? And he's suffering from FFI?"

"His mother belongs to one of the forty families," Carlisle confirmed. "He has been prepared for the onset of the disease for most of his adult life, which might explain why he has managed to built up this strange resilience against it."

"The routine helps," Edward nodded, remembering how sticking to a fixed pattern in life had helped many patients suffering from different neurological disorders in the past. "But it can't be the only thing that has managed to make him last this long."

"I know," Carlisle nodded, "which is why I wanted to bring you along today. I was hoping that maybe you would see more than I can…shed some new light on the case."

"I hope I can," Edward muttered, holding on as the car turned a sharp right, the wheels struggling as they ambled along an uneven driveway until suddenly they were in the middle of a clearing, the forest receding to reveal an elegant brick mansion, the slightly odd rise and fall of the roofline and the natural building materials making it both stick out and blend into its natural surroundings.

"Do you remember everything we've spoken about?" Carlisle checked as the car rolled to a stop at the end of the driveway, his lips pulling into a smile when Edward nodded, the hard line of his mouth and tense set of his shoulders revealing the young man's nervousness. "Good. Then let's go in." He patted Edward's hand as he stood next to him in front of the polished wooden door, the knocker echoing into the room beyond as it came down. "You'll do fine. Oh, and make sure to address the patient by his alias. For some reason he prefers Aro or Mr. Volturi over his real name."

"Why do you think that is?" Edward's brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the information he'd been given.

"Who knows?" Carlisle shrugged. "You know as well as I do that the minds of FFI patients rarely work in an illogical way. Maybe he's seeing his alter ego as a way to detach himself from his family even more so than the distance is already doing. Or maybe he just likes it better."

All too soon, the sound of heels clicking against a hard wood floor preceded the sound of a lock being opened. Edward's nerves sweeping up to quite ridiculous heights, or so he thought, as slowly, the massive wooden door opened to reveal a familiar face.

"Dr. Cullen." Her voice was hard and cold, her lips pressed into a thin, tense smile as her eyes settled on the new visitor standing next to the man she already knew. For a hint of a second her eyes widened, the façade of cold, calculative control dropping for only a moment until her eyes narrowed and she turned her attention back to the older man. "You were almost late."

"I apologize," Carlisle spoke, his voice even, confident and warm as he meticulously wiped his feet before passing her into the house. "I had to brief my new colleague on your uncle's rather special…_circumstances_, and I have to admit that I almost lost track of time."

"Hmm." She didn't seem to like that notion at all, her arms crossing in front of her chest, as she glared at Edward as if he'd already done something to offend her. "So _this_ is the man you've been boasting about?"

"The very one!" Carlisle smiled, stepping aside so that he could formally introduce them. "Edward, please meet Isabella Harrison, our patient's niece and caregiver. Isabella…" He nodded benevolently as Edward shook Isabella's hand, though it didn't escape his notice how the woman withdrew hers almost as soon as she possibly could without being rude. And maybe even a little before that. "Edward's a very talented young neurosurgeon from Chicago. I'm hoping he will be able to help us out. I believe you already briefly met?"

Her eyes narrowed again as she ascertained the situation, the fierceness of her penetrating gaze making her look more like her uncle's protector than his caregiver. "Make sure to wipe your feet," she snapped at Edward, her black, knee length skirt flapping around her legs as she turned on her heels and preceded them into the house, not bothering to answer Carlisle's question.

Edward met Carlisle's inquisitive gaze with a shrug, not quite knowing himself what he'd done to bring on the ire this time. He made sure to meet with her demand before he entered the house, though, his already clean and freshly polished shoes scraping along the doormat until he was absolutely certain there wasn't a speck of dirt left underneath them, before he even dared to step into the house.

Something told him that the smug smile Isabella sent him when he did finally take his first, hesitant step onto the hardwood flooring, didn't have as much to do with the cleanliness of his feet as the fact that she had somehow triumphed over him.

He didn't like it. But what he liked even less was how this strange, elusive woman seemed to draw him in with every snide remark and repudiating gesture. There was just something about her…something that went beyond looks and acts and everything else.

_Mona Lisa._ Unwittingly his lips pulled into a smile as he studied the strange girl. She looked like someone from a different age; a parallel world that survived somewhere within the depths of the Olympic forest. And it wasn't just her looks or the clothes she wore. Her whole _being_ seemed to operate on a different frequency than the rest of the world.

It mesmerized him, and in a way that felt almost frightening.

_Great!_ Edward smirked, letting his eyes wander over the sparse but luxuriously decorated grand foyer. _On top of everything else, apparently he had now also developed a penchant for masochism. _

"Edward?" He looked up to see Carlisle and Isabella waiting for him in front of a closed door, Isabella's impatience rolling off her in waves as they waited for him to catch up.

"I was wiping my feet," he bit back, making sure to keep his venom restricted to still professional levels. Was it just him or did he see the corners of her mouth twitch with amusement?

He didn't have long to wonder about that, Carlisle wanting to make the most of the situation by testing the waters. "How is he doing?"

"About the same, I guess," Isabella answered as her face turned back into an unreadable mask. "Though he has been a little more agitated over the past couple of days. It might just be the visitor, though." And with that her eyes narrowed again, as they crossed from Carlisle to Edward.

"I agree," Carlisle nodded, the battle of the minds playing out next to him completely evaded him as he focused on the wellbeing of his patient. "But let's see for ourselves, shall we?"

Isabella smiled, genuinely this time, as she opened the door to reveal a large, open sitting room, the floor to ceiling windows bathed the neutral, cream furniture in fresh, bright light.

He noticed how Isabella's whole appearance changed the minute she stepped into the room, her strength somehow toned down into submissiveness and her voice taking on a note of timeless elegance as she spoke. "Uncle? Our guests have arrived."

It was only then that Edward noticed the man sitting in the far corner of the room, his body hidden by the natural stone wall behind him as he looked out the windows. "Isabella?" It was only when his face angled towards the sound that the rest of him shot into action, his previously slumped figure moving upright as he came back into the land of the living. "Carlisle, my dear friend, you have come at last!" He rose up from his chair, his body stiff and uncooperating as he shakily found his balance and started to make his way towards them.

Isabella stood, poised to spring into action should she be needed, her whole body exuding alertness as she followed his progress anxiously.

The way he moved reminded Edward of the patients suffering from Parkinson's Disease, his gait slow, calculative and sometimes disturbed as his mind failed to send the right commands to his limbs.

"Aro," Carlisle's voice didn't yield pride of place when it came to warmth as he stuck out his hand, waiting patiently for his patient to reach him. "It is always a pleasure to see you. I trust you are well?"

"As well as I always am," the patient answered with a small smile. He knew he was ill, there was no denying it. He felt it in his bones, his flesh but, most of all, in his brain. Even little things seemed to be getting worse with every sleepless day that passed.

He knew all of this, yet he chose not to live by it. For most for his adult life he had been aware of the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head; his skin breaking out in a cold sweat every time sleep eluded him or as his usually so astute mind struggled to catch up. He had been so preoccupied with the disease that finally falling victim to it, after almost sixty years of good health, had been more of a liberation than a death sentence.

It had also been the moment he started living in denial; electing to live out the rest of his life the way he wanted to as opposed to the way society dictated. It was why he chose to spend the remainder of his days not with the wife he had grown tired of many years ago, or the children who could never be pleased and grateful for what they were given. Out in the remoteness of the other side of the continent with a young woman he could mold into his perfect companion.

"You've brought your friend!" His eyes shifted hesitantly to Edward, the small, beady eyes taking in his appearance. "Welcome!"

"Yes," Carlisle nodded, stealthily pushing Edward a few steps forward. "Aro, might I present to you my brother in law, Dr. Edward Masen?"

Edward stepped forward, taking the bony, wrinkled hand that reached out towards him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure's all mine, I'm sure," Aro answered, determined to play the role of the good host no matter how much his body was trying to undermine him. "You have arrived just in time for afternoon tea. Isabella?"

At his command Isabella nodded, indicating that she had understood his unspoken request, before she retreated to a side door into what Edward assumed was the kitchen, the sound of plates and other utensils being produced ringing out soon after.

"It's always an unexpected pleasure to welcome new guests into my home," he went on, cautiously shuffling towards one of his usual seats, a comfortable, yet elegant lounge chair, positioned at a strategic spot that oversaw most of the downstairs area as well as the entresol where Isabella's quarters lay. It was where he felt king in his own realm. "Carlisle tells me you're from Chicago?"

"I am, sir," Edward, ill at ease with the situation, answered. "I arrived here only yesterday." He was unsure of himself, something that hardly ever occurred in the execution of his chosen profession. Throughout his career – though be it a short career since he had only been a fully-qualified neurosurgeon for less than a year before he was caught – he had been called cocky, arrogant, and sometimes even over-confident, but never hesitant or unsure. Yet in this situation, with a patient who didn't _want_ to be a patient, let alone be treated like one, he didn't quite know how to act.

"Ah!" Aro, unaware of Edward's inner turmoil, smiled. "You must find it very dull and uninspiring here."

"I take offense at that!" Carlisle joked, his good humor cutting through Edward's insecurity. "Forks is neither dull nor uninspiring."

"But my dear Carlisle, you have to admit finding anyone deserving of the label 'polite society' in a place like this, is like finding a needle in a haystack!" their patient argued, his smile fading into thought as he turned his attention back to his new guest. "Pray tell me, is Riccardo Muti still affiliated to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra?"

Edward nodded, relieved to be able to answer the question. "It has been a while since I attended a performance at the Orchestra Hall but I believe he still is. If he had moved on I think I'd have heard, since my father pays for a quite substantial part of the man's salary."

Aro appeared shocked, his eyes widening as they once again eagerly scanned Edward's appearance. "Your father…he's Edward Masen of Masen Industries?"

"That indeed he is, sir," Edward reluctantly admitted. Throughout his life he'd always felt horrible, using his family name, even if it could save his career or, in this case, gain his patients' trust.

"I met him once," Aro mused, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "I thought he was a very pompous, unpleasant sort of man."

He heard Carlisle's sharp intake of breath beside him but Edward could only chuckle as he nodded. "Then we agree in our opinion of him."

Their patient appeared quite shocked, his attempt at provocation meeting nothing but acquiescence which completely threw him for a loop. His guest…this young man, he completely befuddled him and, whereas he knew the risk any challenge to his overworked and overtired brain posed, he was quite pleasantly surprised by it.

Mercifully Isabella made her appearance, her arms heaving under the pressure of a full tea tray as she strode in elegantly and aware of the position Aro wanted her to take up in the general pecking order.

"Ah, lovely." Aro smiled condescendingly, his hand reaching out to lightly touch Isabella's skin as she placed the makings of a perfect, traditional English afternoon tea on the table in front of them. "Thank you, dear."

She smiled back, her behavior so completely different from what he knew that it completely threw Edward for a loop. "Do you wish me to pour, Uncle?"

"Please," the patient held out his hands in blessing, watching as his young companion poured the tea through a strain before placing delicate China cups filled with steaming liquid in front of the guests and her uncle.

It wasn't long until Edward noted that everything about this tea ritual appeared to be tailored to Aro's unique position and abilities; the sandwiches and other refreshments cut to bite-sized portions requiring no actions that would test the capabilities of one who was severely encumbered in his motor skills.

They really were a well-oiled, perfectly functioning unit. As well as one completely and blissfully in denial of the horrifying reality that was slowly, but surely, sneaking up on them.

As they settled down, Aro and Carlisle launched into a conversation about some neighborhood project that they were following with a keen eye, their hushed conversation creating an awkward, tense silence on the other side of the table when Edward and Bella sat in their seats, trying to act like nothing was out of the ordinary as they stole sideways glances at the other.

Isabella was beautiful, that much Edward had known even when he happened upon her at the supermarket but here, so close that he could almost reach out and touch her if he wasn't so afraid she'd slap him, he started to note the finer nuances to her beauty.

She was young; Edward figured her to be in her early twenties at the most, her slightly round features putting her at the age where a girl finally turned into a woman but already lacking that full plumpness of childhood. Her face was the kind of pale that spoke of a life lived mostly indoors, her flawless, almost translucent skin stretching over a slender body. With just the right amount of curves to make her look alluring in an almost understated elegant way, especially in the clothes she wore.

She was…something else.

Edward swallowed, forcing his mind back on the right track before his strange, almost unhealthy fascination with the girl could manifest itself in ways too apparent, his fingers trembling slightly as he stirred his tea and diverted his mind by picking out perfectly cut, triangular sandwiches from the plate.

"They taste delicious," Carlisle muttered in appreciation as he sunk his teeth into a small piece of broccoli quiche. "Isabella has become quite the accomplished chef."

"Thank you." Isabella smiled, her posture emanating discomfort as she crossed her ankle behind the other, her back stiff as a board as she picked at some non-existent specks of dust on her turtleneck shirt.

"It is all in the ingredients," the patient nodded along, his movements deliberate and cautious as he brought his own choice of refreshment to his mouth. "I have always been amazed at human kind's eagerness to poison themselves all in exchange for a quick, tasteless meal."

Edward frowned. "Poison themselves?"

"Yes, my dear boy," Aro nodded, the glimmer in his eyes revealing his passion for the subject. "If you would only take the time to read the back of any jar, carton or pack of pre-produced food in your house, you'd soon notice how the food companies of this world are trying to poison you, body and mind." He sat back, his hand twitching as he gathered steam. "They flood our systems with chemicals, salt and a profusion of starch until we are reduced to mere drones, unable to think clearly because of our sluggish minds and constantly at war with our unknown addictions to sugar and salt."

His eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to either stop the twitching or camouflage it. "It is their way of keeping us under control."

"That is..erm…" Edward's brain faltered as he tried to come up with a suitable reply. He knew a satisfactory reaction would be vital to establishing a bond with this patient but he just didn't know how to act or what the old man expected. "That's definitely food for thought."

"In more ways than one," his patient chuckled, lifting his teacup in a shaky salute.

"It's why the professor refuses to eat anything that hasn't been created in this house," Isabella chimed in, her smile tense as she remembered all the hard work she had to put into each and every meal. _If only the old man liked his food simple and without much 'to do'…._

"We poison ourselves so merrily and unaware…" Aro took over again, his face contemplative. "But not me, not anymore. I choose to live my life free from oppression and enriched by the clarity they seek to keep from me."

_The man was definitely suffering the tell-tale signs of paranoia, _Edward thought, mindlessly stirring his tea as silence settled back over the room. Carlisle and Aro soon picking their conversation back up as Edward and Isabella drank tea, their minds more constrained by the terse silence between them with every second that passed.

Until Edward had enough. "I'm happy to see you've made it back home in one piece," he finally spoke.

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, he knew they had been the wrong ones; Isabella's face paling to an almost deadly white before a furious blush started to spread, her hand clenching around her tea cup as she sat in quiet rage.

"Isabella?" James' voice was curious as he turned towards her, his beady eyes watching her closely. "You did not tell me of any incidents."

"It was nothing, uncle," she assured him, her voice calm and sweet as she smiled. "I merely tripped and fell outside the supermarket and Dr. Masen here was kind enough to help me back to the car."

"You should have told me." Her uncle's displeasure was apparent in his voice. "You know how much I hate it when you keep things from me."

"I am very sorry," she insisted. "I know you do but, really, it was such a small ting that by the time I made it back home I'd already forgotten. I did not deliberately keep you in the dark."

Aro needed some time to ruminate on her explanation, his temporarily mental absence giving Isabella time to send a scathing glare at Edward who, now aware of the predicament he'd unwittingly put her in, sat corrected. "Isabella is right, Mr. Volturi," he muttered, scrambling to right the mess he'd created. "She never came to any harm. My concern was merely because of the shock she'd appeared to be in."

"Shock?" Aro's eyes widened at the mention of the word, making Edward realize that, yet again, his choice of words had been unfortunate.

"Nothing bad," he hastened to assure his new patient, "just the kind of shock one gets from making a slight, harmless stumble while your hands are filled with shopping bags." And then, in a sudden fit of genius he remembered something Carlisle had told him about the particular predilection of his patient for the lifestyle of the 1950's. "You know how women are. Their fragile nerves are easily frazzled."

"That they are," James nodded, his approval shining from his eyes. "Well I, for one, am very grateful that you happened to stumble upon her when she needed you. Isn't that right, Isabella?"

Edward could see that it cost the lady no small amount of difficulty as she fixed her lips into a smile and turned toward him. "Indeed, uncle." Her voice was dripping with dishonesty as she spoke. "Dr. Masen's interference could not have come at a more opportune time."

"Splendid!" James smiled, seeing only what he wanted to see. And, as so often those days, his vision of the world was not necessarily one that reflected reality. "I knew that young man would do us a world of good the minute Carlisle mentioned him. I'm sure he will be a very welcome addition to our afternoon discussions."

Carlisle scrapped his throat, his eyes flittering nervously between Edward and Isabella as he tried to assess the situation. Though he was very glad and relieved that his brother in law seemed to have won their patient over with an ease and naturalness that made him slightly envious, he knew the situation between Edward and Isabella was a very precarious one and endangered all the hard work he'd put in over the past years. His gesture succeeded in breaking the tension, however, Edward's eyes immediately falling downward as Isabella started assembling the dirty crockery.

"Why don't you give Isabella a hand?" Carlisle suggested, though there was little in his tone that left room for discussion.

Edward sighed, and then nodded as he reluctantly rose from his chair. Though part of him wanted nothing more than to be closer to her and somehow try to figure out what lurked behind that impenetrable mask of hers, he knew the conversation which loomed ahead wasn't going to be easy.

He was right.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she hissed as soon as they were out of earshot, her eyes blazing fire as they glared at him and all traces of polished refinery suddenly gone.

"I'm sorry," Edward, still completely dumbfounded by Isabella's red-hot rage, muttered. "I didn't know-"

"No, you _didn't_," she snapped, the kitchen cabinet slamming shut as she started to gather the makings of tea, "but that didn't stop you from butting into other people's business, did it?"

"I won't be making that mistake a second time, you can rest assured," he snapped back, his patience strained to the limit under her cold, repudiative demeanor. "Don't worry. I won't bother you again."

"Good," she spat back, her skirt flailing around her smooth, toned legs as she moved around the kitchen. "Because I don't want your interference. Or your company."

Edward shook his head, wondering what about her he'd ever found alluring as he made his way out of the kitchen, his head spinning as he leaned it against the smoothed walls of the foyer. She might have been beautiful and entrancing, but the ugliness that lurked underneath was enough to put him off.

_Good._ He nodded, rubbing his hands over his face. _The sooner he forgot his silly boyish attraction to her, the better. She was his patient's nurse, nothing else._

"What was all that about?" Carlisle asked as soon as they were back in the car. It hadn't escaped his notice how Edward had been waiting from him in the foyer and appeared to have been there, on his own, for quite some time.

"I don't know," Edward breathed, leaning his head against the backrest as the car sped off back in the direction of the town.

And it was the truth. He'd be damned if he knew what the hell was wrong with Isabella Harrison but, he did have a feeling that forgetting her might not be as easy as he hoped.

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_**FFI is a real disease and, though I took some creative license with it (as far as I know, no patient at is as lucid as Aro is that far into the disease), most of the information you'll find about it in this chapter is fact. I did my best to research as much as I could about this disease and its patients but I'm no doctor so there are bound to be some errors and/or misinterpretations. If you want to know more about FFI than this chapter offered, you can find some more info and a really great documentary on my blog. The link is on my profile page. **_

_**As always, please leave me your thoughts on this chapter. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I added some pictures for this chapter as well as the song that inspired an important part of it to the blog. You can find the link on my profile page. **_

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**6.**

_**The siren**_

It was too early that morning and the sound of his mobile phone ringing roughly disturbed Edward's first decent night's sleep since he'd arrived in Forks four days before. Though sleep might have not been the right word to describe the almost comatose state he'd passed out into the minute his head had landed on his pillow the previous night.

"Hello?" he croaked, too tired to even open his eyes to check the caller ID.

"Edward? Is that you?" the familiar voice of his little sister spoke.

"Alice?" Edward sat up, scratching his head as he tried to find his bearings in the darkened room. "Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"What? It's seven in the morning, silly!" she squealed in a high-pitched tone far too early for that time of day. "Besides, aren't doctors supposed to be up all night?"

"Only if we're on the graveyard shift," Edward grumbled, his mind finally starting to make sense of things. "And if it's seven in Chicago that means it's five in the fucking morning over here. Time difference, remember?"

"Oops!" Alice giggled. "I guess I forgot about that."

"Yeah, big fucking 'oops'!" Edward grumbled squirming back underneath the warmth of his covers as he leaned against the headboard.

"Anyhow…" Alice let her voice trail off, "how are you settling in? Tired of living in Hicksville yet?"

"Hicksville? Watch out, sis, your privileged, inner-city bitch is showing!" Edward chuckled fully awake, even though he didn't have to be ready for a few more hours.

"Didn't my mom tell you a million times to stop cussing like a fucking fifteen year old?" Alice berated him. "And answer my question, damn you."

"You're doing it yourself." Edward grinned back.

"Well newsflash: I _am_ fifteen," Alice reasoned. "Now answer the fucking question."

"I'm doing fine, Ally," Edward sighed, not quite sure if he was telling the whole truth or stretching the truth somewhat. "And Forks…it's not that bad."

"You mean not that bad for a town named after a kitchen utensil and has less inhabitants than your average Wal-Mart on a Saturday?" Alice sounded as if she could hardly believe it could ever be habitable, let alone 'not that bad'.

To Edward, though, Forks had quickly become about more than just an intermediate station on his way back to where he wanted to be. Already he felt himself calmed and reinvigorated by his green, rural surroundings and the distance between himself and the people who knew what happened. It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, even though he knew it would be back the minute he set foot in Chicago again._ No, Forks isn't that bad at all_.

"I mean not that bad, period," he chuckled, voicing his inner musings. "Seriously, Tink, you should head out here some time. You'd see that country living definitely has its perks."

"Like?" He smiled, Alice's disbelieving smirk so apparent he could almost feel it through the phone.

"Like nature," he answered. "I know you don't really go for any green stuff unless there's a price tag attached and it's hanging in the window at Gucci's, but the scenery around here really is something else. I think you'd like it."

Alice chuckled disbelievingly. "I don't think so."

"You like fairytales, don't you?" Edward challenged, waiting for his sister to confirm before he went on. "Well, this place…it looks like it wandered straight out of the Grimm Brothers' imagination." He sighed, stretching his arms as he pulled the curtains apart to reveal the forest stretching out on the other side of the glass. "The trees and the woods…it's like they're from another world." _Not to mention the people living among them_, Edward thought, his mind once again drifting to the strange, but beautiful, hostile girl living with the old dying man.

"I still don't believe you." In spite of the words, he could hear by the tone of her voice he was breaking her down. It made him smile knowing Alice wasn't so spoiled and jaded by her lavish lifestyle to see the perks of something that lacked her usual grandeur. "But I'd love to see it someday. Too bad I'm stuck out here for the time being."

"Chicago has its perks," Edward shrugged. It was the city he'd lived in for all his life, except for a short stay at Dartmouth – the Masen family's alma mater – to get his degree. He loved it; the strength that spoke out of the stone and glass as it rose up from the earth and the sharp contrast where the stone gave way to the vast watery surface of Lake Michigan. Besides, for an incorrigible shopaholic like Alice, it would be a torture to be away from her usual stomping grounds.

"But I miss you." Alice sounded close to tears as she spoke. "It sucks that dad wouldn't let me skip class to come pick you up."

"Yeah," Edward sighed, really missing his sister in that moment. There was something about her presence which made it completely impossible for him to become mad, depressed or harbor any other negative emotions. She was like the sun. _His_ sun. "As much as I'd hate you to miss school, I really wanted you there, too."

"Well, this just sucks!" Alice pouted in her own, slightly less than articulate way. "It's gonna be weeks before we see each other again. Dad won't let me fly out there for the weekend on my own, even though mom would totally allow it, and besides…I don't really thinks Esme likes me all that much so I feel kind of weird showing up on my own."

"What the hell, Ally? She's your _sister_! Of course Esme likes you," Edward interrupted her never-ending flurry of words, hoping to hell he was speaking the truth.

"Then why is she always acting like I was the one who broke dad and Elizabeth up?" Alice countered. "I know that dad only pushed for divorce when he found out mom was pregnant with me, but it's not like I could help it."

"She likes you, okay?" Edward pressed. "It's just that it's hard for her, too, you know? She wasn't around to see the whole thing develop so it must have come as a shock to her to find out dad had knocked up the nanny. Besides, she hardly knows you."

"Yeah, well, while that's all fine and dandy, I'd still like to wait until mom can come with me," Alice grumped. "Not that dad's ever going to let her out of his sight, though."

As strange as the connection between the cold bastard and his warm-blooded, former employee might have looked to everyone – including his own children – Edward Sr. and Carmen had been happily married for over fifteen years. Though Carmen was by no means blind to her husband's defects, the bond between them was still as strong as it had been the minute they had given in to the tension that had been steadily growing between them for years. It was so strong, in fact, though he never openly showed his affection, he refused to be parted from his wife for more than a few hours.

"You could always fly out for Thanksgiving with my mom," Edward suggested, immediately cringing in anticipation of his sister's reaction.

"No, thanks," Alice replied sarcastically. "I'd rather boil live puppies than spend a weekend with Elizabeth. No offense."

"None taken," Edward chuckled, knowing his mother's relationship with Carmen and Alice was fragile to say the least. They were civil to each other, both for the sake of appearances and because they knew that open hostility would make the large amount of time they were forced to spend in each other's presences only more awkward and tedious. "So, I guess that means we're stuck with Skype, huh?"

"Yeah." Alice's pout was so clear in her voice he didn't even need a visual to imagine it. She changed subjects then, telling him all about her latest acquisitions and the spa day his ex-wife – with whom Alice had always been thick as thieves – had treated her to. "By the way…Tanya and I went to see Claire the other day. It…it was good."

The mention of the name – that name – made Edward break out in a cold, panicked sweat. It was too soon to be mentioning her name; the pain still too fresh to face it. "G-good," he finally managed to stammer, knowing his sister would want some kind of confirmation that he'd heard her. "That's…it's very good of you to visit her."

"I talk to her sometimes, you know?" Alice, unaware of the pain she was causing, went on. As much as she had wanted to help her big brother at the time, she hadn't been privy to the complete and utter devastation which took a hold of Edward on that black day and, though she knew he never really talked about it, she mostly thought it was because he had no one to talk to, not because even thinking her name left him completely shattered. "I know it's silly but-"

"No, that's…that's great," Edward interrupted her, wishing to God that she would please change the subject. "I think she'd like that."

"Thanks," Alice's emotions were thick in her voice, making Edward feel even more guilty and despicable for moving on when she…

"Look, Eddie?" It was his sister's voice that pulled him right off that ledge. "I think the driver has just pulled up. I've gotta go. Talk to you soon?"

"Y-yeah," Edward felt a hug wave of relief wash over him. "Love you, Ally."

"Love you, too, big brother." And just like that she was gone, leaving Edward behind; wide awake and a complete mess at five-thirty in the morning.

He fell back, his head cradled by the pillow as he let out a deep breath, his mind taking him places he wasn't quite ready to revisit yet.

_Claire..._She had been such a blessing to his life that, even now, it was hard to imagine she had really been there. Yet, if he closed his eyes he could still remember her happy, innocent laughter ringing out through the house as he came back from a grueling eighty-hour shift or her mumbled, semi-coherent mutterings as they 'talked' early in the morning under the covers of his bed; her eyes lighting up and her stubby little arms wrapping around his as she greeted him…_Gone_. _She is never coming back_. _None of that will ever come back. _

And was all his fault.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he could already feel the tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, his muscles trembling with the force of months of pent up grief and anger.

_No. Not now. Not yet_. His hands balled into fists as he used one of the lessons learned in rehabilitation therapy to push the unwanted feelings down, wondering wryly how Dr. Adkinson would look if she found out he was using the mechanism she'd taught him to cope with withdrawals to repress his feelings.

It didn't matter what she thought, though. He wasn't ready to face all of that – and he was going to make it quite clear to whoever would be treating him. He was wondering if he ever would be ready to face all of the pain he kept locked up inside. After all, was there ever such a thing as the right time to fall to pieces?

With his grief safely pushed back, his mind jumped onto a different pathway, going back to some of the other things his sister had shared with him.

_Poor Alice._ He breathed out, some of the tension in his shoulders slowly slipping away as he thought about how she missed him and how much he missed having her around. It might have been a pain at times, having a little sister who was more than ten years younger but over the years, he'd really started to grow close to her, even if they were complete polar opposites in almost every aspect of their characters.

She was bold, vivacious and outgoing, smart but not in a conventional way. Alice almost obsessed with fabric and design whereas he…Edward snorted. He'd never given a damn about clothes, except for the fact they covered his naked ass and protected him from getting cold or hurt and, as to his character? Well, nobody ever made the mistake of calling him outgoing or vivacious.

No, he had always been more of an indoor, contemplative kind of guy; listening to music most people labeled as 'old' or 'difficult' and preferring to study the human body from the inside instead of the outside.

They complemented each other; Alice forcing Edward to engage with the world outside of the hospital, as well as, brush up on some pop culture and while Edward, in turn, made sure that his baby sister didn't get lost in her own little world of fashion and design or end up a shallow little airhead.

It was why he was so pissed off at his dad – and had been for a pretty long time – for what the old man was trying to do. He was trying to break that unique spirit of Alice's, molding her into a likeness of himself; cold, hard and only occupied with the acquisition of power and wealth.

It was why he'd vetoed her choice of school, enrolling her in a school known for its academics and not for its accomplishments in art in the hopes his daughter would let go of her silly dream of attending art school instead of electing a more sensible major like business or law. Art, to him, was something to invest in or brag about. Not something to let your own child dabble in, least of all when it wasn't some intellectual form of art like sculpting or painting but fashion. _No_, Edward chuckled darkly, hating his father even more than he already did._ The old man doesn't like that idea very much_.

For years, he'd been living with the bitter resentment of not being able to live up to his father's high hopes of him. It had been a crushing weight and one his dad had never let him forget. Edward narrowed his eyes, his hands balling into fists as he made a quiet vow to himself not to stand by and let the old man do the same again to his little sister. If her father wasn't going to look out for Alice, then he would.

He rubbed his face, knowing he wasn't going to get any more sleep considering the state he was in. _Stuck between a rock and a hard place._ He knew his sister had always wanted nothing more than to make her daddy proud of her – something that, though she was his princess and he doted on her in all her girly prettiness, was a rare occurrence – but on the other side, she had a dream that she wanted more than anything to come true.

Edward knew all about it. A little over ten years ago he had been in that same position and had made a move so bold and uncharacteristic that even now it amazed him how he'd had the guts to do it. To go against his dad's wishes and choose what he wanted instead of what had been chosen for him. _Will she have the balls to do it as well? _

He hoped so, even though he feared Alice would probably settle for second best.

It made him bitter, his body growing restless with anger as slowly, but surely, the sun – or what light passed for sunrise in this virtually sunless place – started to creep through the curtains.

He needed a run.

The thought alone was enough to trigger him into action, digging around in his closet for his gear before heading out, his body restless with the anticipation of a solid workout in the fresh, outside air. It was something that had been sorely missing from his life of late.

It was cold outside, the ground covered in a subtle white mist as he looked around, pulling the hood of his Dartmouth hoodie over his head as he jogged in place, trying to warm his ankles before setting off along one of the trails that led into the woods.

It was only just light enough to find his way and keep to the trail, his shoes bouncing along the rich soil as he made his way into the thick of the wood, the serene silence of the forest enveloping him as soon as he set off.

He loved to run. The pounding of his feet against the earth, the rhythm of his heart thumping from deep inside of him, the sounds of nature slowly awakening around him…_yeah, this was the life_. Over the years he'd tried other sports; football, baseball, even a blue Monday of golf since the doc's at the hospital seemed to be doing it. However, nothing had given him the same sense of exhilaration as the feeling that came from a good run; the endorphins coursing through his veins the minute he started to work up a sweat, his muscles straining against the brisk pace he set himself as the path he was following led him deeper and deeper into the forest.

It was so quiet around him, the only sounds breaking through the thick silence being a few early birds here and there calling out to the rising dawn as the trees slowly rustled in the muted wind. The rest…it was all him; twigs snapping in half as he crushed them under his feet, his breath coming louder and louder as the fast pace started to catch up with him, his clothes rustling with every step he took.

He'd never been the kind of person who, like so many, liked to exercise to the beat of a drum, even if the kind of music he liked would have lent itself a bit better to the rigors of his routine. No, he loved the silence; the absence of any disturbances soon lulling him into an almost trace-like state that no kind of music could ever achieve. It was the only moment of the day when he could truly be at peace, his mind quiet and his thoughts solely focused on his next step. Nothing more. No hospital. No past. No recovery. No Isabella. No Rachel. No future.

Just the run.

That day, however, his blissful nothingness was cut short by the sound of a voice sounding from the distance.

A female voice…and it was _singing_.

His steps faltered as his mind zoned in on the foreign, unfamiliar tune; a rich, feminine, soprano voice stringing notes together in a way that seemed so random it was almost…jazz.

He smiled, his pace now slowed into a brisk walk as he moved toward the sound, his body moving without thinking as his mind tried to wrap around the otherworldliness of the situation he was in. It was almost like something out of a dream; the dense forest producing a sound so beautiful you simply _had_ to follow it. Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin.

The forest crunched underneath his feet as he left the trail, his feet still moving at their own volition as he got closer, the singing louder and louder as he encroached on what appeared to be a clearing in the trees. The light was shining brighter and brighter through the branches until he was there…on the very edge.

The sight that greeted him as he looked out in front of him was so strange, so foreign that, once again, Edward started to wonder whether or not Forks was really the dull, rainy town it claimed to be or if it was in fact a portal to a parallel universe; one where strange, mysterious things seemed as normal as everyday life. That or the lingering effects of his addiction had done more damage to his mind than he thought they had. However, he had never heard of anyone actually losing their mind from a regular intake of Vicodin. Withdrawals however….

But seeing as Edward had gone through withdrawals months ago and was pretty sure that both his mind and body were now completely free of any poison he might have so willingly submitted it to, his eyes could not have been deceived. He was really seeing Isabella Harrison, dancing around a woodland meadow at daybreak.

The sight was mesmerizing; her feet hidden by low hanging wisps of fog as her thin white dress which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be either a shift or a nightgown, danced around her slender body, always a few paces behind as she spun around, her hands flailing and her legs moving to a rhythm only she appeared to be aware of.

And he? He just stood there, slack-jawed and completely enraptured by the sight of her, his eyes spellbound by her movements as the melodic, though seemingly erratic, tune she hummed swept him up into a cloud of confusing feelings.

It was…like nothing he'd ever seen before, her motions both primal and fluid, elegant and crude, organized and arbitrary, her eyes far away and sometimes closed as she sprang from one leg to the other, her arms reaching high up in the sky as if in greeting of a sun they both knew would never come.

It was like she was performing some sort of ancient ritual that had been long forgotten by everyone, but her.

It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

And one of the strangest.

As his eyes started to get used to the strange scene playing out in front of him, he started to notice the subtle changes in Isabella's demeanor compared to the last time he'd seen her. Apart from the distinct lacking of the rather conservative clothing she'd worn on both occasions he'd seen her, and the fact that her almost waist-length brown hair was hanging down her back in shiny waves instead of tied up into an elegant twist, there was something so different in the way she was moving that she seemed almost a different girl.

It was freedom; her lips no longer set in a hard line but curled up in a relaxed, soft smile and her eyes shining in the dim light of the breaking dawn, her face happy instead of calculative and guarded. There, dancing around in the meadow, she seemed much younger than she had both times he'd seen her before but still, her body and her movements were one hundred percent woman and the sheer, almost erotic, sensuality in the way she moved stirred up the same almost primal urge to know and posses her which seemed to go hand in hand with seeing her.

And no amount of resolve to forget Isabella and treat her with nothing but professional indifference could stop Edward's cock from hardening in his pants as he licked his lips, his eyes never wavering from their target. It was not something he could stop and, unhealthy as his feelings for this strange, hostile, barely legal woman were, in that moment, he didn't even _want_ to stop them.

All he wanted….was _her_.

Unwittingly he took a step forward, his whole frame cringing as a twig snapped under his feet, the sound echoing through the forest with a loudness that made a few birds fly up in alarm.

Like the birds, Isabella also heard the sound, her movements coming to a sudden stop as she looked around her with panicked eyes, her mouth hanging slightly open as the sound that had been pouring from it just seconds before died down making her look as vulnerable as she had been happy, just minutes before.

Her eyes scanned the tree line, her heartbeat speeding up with fear and anger and a strong sense of betrayal at knowing that her secret hiding place, her one safe haven, had been disturbed. For a moment she held hope that it had been nothing, just an animal passing by or a dead branch falling from the tree. That was, until her eyes found _him_, perched on the edge of the meadow, his tall, masculine frame half hidden behind the undergrowth.

Edward's breath hitched in his throat the minute they locked eyes, his heart pounding through his veins as they stood and stared, spellbound in each other's gaze in one of those moments where the rest of the world ceases to exist and the universe was brought down to just two simple things: him and her.

It seemed like an eternity when, in reality, only seconds passed before the spell was broken by the inopportune shrieking of an animal in the distance. A loud gasp fell from Isabella's lips as she took a few steps back; first one small pace, then another before taking off into a run, more branches snapping underneath her bare feet and more birds taking off into the heavens as she disappeared, the forest swallowing the tiny figure as she left the meadow devoid of everything but her deep red coat and her abandoned Vans.

For a moment Edward's mind started to wonder if it had all been real, the whole event seeming so odd and unbelievable that he thought it couldn't have been. It had to have all been a figment of his imagination. That was, until his eyes landed on the small pile of discarded clothing and he realized it wasn't. It was real. It had happened.

And the fact it had ended before he could speak or act or even start to apologize for basically spying on an unsuspecting female from behind a couple of bushes like some sort of perverted stalker left him feeling oddly bereft and slightly at odds with himself.

He was under her spell, just like he had been every single time they'd met. But, unlike in romance novels or fairy tales, Edward had no desire to be held spellbound by a woman who had so clearly indicated, on more than one occasion, that she wasn't interested in him, even if any foolish feelings on his part could ever lead to something. The realization she'd done it again; that after all his efforts to distance himself from her she still had an effect on him, made him more frustrated and angry with himself, and with her, than he perhaps had reason to be.

"I will conquer this," he growled at the empty field before turning around and trekking back through the tree line in search of the trail, determined more than ever to finish his run, clear his mind and be in command of himself again before his first session with the therapist the hospital was making him see.

_Making_. Because Edward had no desire to bare his soul to a stranger any further than he'd already been forced to do. As far as he was concerned, all therapists were eerily alike in their annoying habits to focus on the very things their patients didn't want to discuss. And his past…it was full of those moments.

Still, it was a requirement both Forks General and St. Mary's had made and, since he still loved practicing medicine more than he hated sitting across from a shrink for sixty minutes, trying to dodge difficult questions, he was just going to have to grin and bear it.

But first there was his shift at the hospital to complete. Well, half shift, since he was still in his trial phase and it had been deemed unwise for him to jump straight back into full twelve-hour shifts.

With that in mind, Edward made short work of the rest of his job, arriving back at the house even more frustrated than he'd been when he left. His bad mood not going unnoticed by his sister or the rest of the family as he stomped around the house in need of a quick shower and shave, his tie still half undone as he dashed around the kitchen for a quick breakfast on the go.

"Are we still on for dinner?' Esme asked, barely looking up from her newspaper. She might not have seen her brother for quite some time before she took him under her wing, but that didn't mean she'd forgotten about how awfully grumpy he could be in the mornings when he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Edward nodded, cringing slightly as he took a big gulp from his scalding coffee, the back of his throat burning as he put the half-empty mug back into the sink. "I'll let you know when I'm done at the shrink's office."

He was out the door before his sister could reply, arriving at the hospital an hour before he should to find a sleepy Carlisle on the back end of his night shift, briefing Dr. Molina on a case which had presented during the night.

They both appeared to be pleasantly surprised by his early arrival, the small appreciative smile on Carlisle's lips and nod of approval from his female colleague telling Edward that he was on his way to win at least some of the trust he was so yearning for.

Already his step was a bit lighter as he walked into the doctors' lounge, quickly changing for his shift before going back out to mingle with the rest of the hospital staff.

It was the best avoidance tactic he could think of and one that had proven its value time and time again for as long as he'd been working at hospitals. After all, treating patients meant your mind was fully occupied with medicine, the pathology of cases as they presented itself and the rush of adrenaline when an emergency patient was brought in; pushing all thoughts of a certain female twirling around a twilit meadow to the background.

With that knowledge in his mind, Edward made a beeline for the admittance desk, grabbing a chart from the tray to check if there was anything to get him started on, his eyes scanning the now familiar scribbling of his colleagues as they perused the information.

"You're here early!" Rachel greeted him, her easy smile and natural kindness the complete polar opposite of the woman he was still trying to push out of his mind. "Already beginning to get hooked on medicine again?"

Edward almost chocked on his own spit, his shock masked by a sudden interest in the chart he was holding as he shrugged. _If only she knew_. "I woke up early and figured I might as well do something useful rather than stare at the ceiling." He put the chart back into the rack, his usual grin back in place as he turned to face her. "Besides, I knew my favorite nurse was going to be here."

"Charmer!" Rachel faked a huff, though there was no hiding the blush on her cheeks. "I bet you say that to all the nurses."

"Only the pretty ones," he joked back, adding a wink for extra effect. "So, I've been thinking about your proposal."

"My proposal?" Rachel's brows furrowed as she tried to remember which proposal he meant. There had been several she'd made in her mind but none of those were of the nature that they'd ever been voiced out loud.

"Going to the bar on Friday?" Edward reminded her. "That is…if it's still on."

"Sure." Rachel tried to play it off lightly, though inwardly her heart was racing. "Shelley and Nicole are going to be there as well and I think I heard Mark Banner mentioned something about going…"

"Good." Edward nodded, a little relieved he wasn't going to be the only doctor there on a nurses' night out.

She was careful to keep her voice free from expectation, knowing instinctively that any sort of pressure would make him run for the hills. "So you're going?"

Edward nodded, his feelings conflicted as he opened his mouth to speak. "Yeah. I'm game."

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_**Thoughts?**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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**7.**

_**The bar.**_

"Hey, Ned, have you heard anything from Charlotte lately?"

Edward looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh?" It might have been the early hour and his brain not being quite up to speed with the rest of him, but Esme's question managed to completely throw Edward for a loop.

"Just asking." Esme shrugged, her long fingers played with the stem of her teaspoon.

"_Es_." Edward shook his head, a small, bemused smile on his lips as he stared her down. "I know you better than that. What are you getting at?" Charlotte and Esme had always had a shaky relationship, the one looking too much like their father, the other favoring their mother in character too much to ever get along. Much like it had been with their parents.

Esme looked slightly annoyed, her lips pursed before they opened to speak. "Just answer the damn question, Ned."

He sat back, his lips folding around the edge of his cup as he washed his palette with strong, black espresso. "The last time I saw her was on my first day of rehab when she came to read me the riot act, what with dad stuck in New York for some business meeting. She seemed to be doing fine back then and I assume the same goes for right now, seeing as robots never get sick and all." His brow arched slightly as he held her gaze, both siblings locked in a game of mind-chess. "Now tell me why you want to know."

"I was just thinking the other day…" Esme let her voice trail off as she brushed a few crumbs of leftover breakfast from the table. "Maybe…maybe I didn't try hard enough with her."

"Get real, sis." Edward sighed. Even though her sudden longing to know about her older sister was quite preposterous, he did feel for her. "She's a lost cause and has been from the day she was born. There's too much of dad in her."

"But-" Esme, always the most compassionate of the Masens started.

"Do you know how many times she called or visited me in rehab?" Edward cut her off. "_None_. That is, if you don't count that one time dad ordered her to come and lecture me because he couldn't do it himself. Not _once_." He remembered how his sister had looked, sitting across from him in the living room of the clinic. Her disapproval had been very apparent, her eyes glaring as if she held him personally responsible for the fact that she had to degrade herself by stepping into a house full of drug addicts, recovered or not. The worst thing about it had been that she was actually right, her disdain perfectly understandable even though it had hurt. He'd deserved it. He had deserved the pain.

"Don't do that." His hand jerked as his sister's soft fingers connected with his, her eyes conveying her worry as she tried to catch his gaze. "Don't tear yourself up over it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked-"

"It's not your fault, sis." He shrugged.

"Nor is it yours," she insisted, even though deep down she knew no amount of reasoning could ever overthrow her brother's deeply rooted conviction that he was solely to blame for the dramatic, disastrous turn his life had taken. She would never stop trying, though. She couldn't give up on him, even when, at times, it seemed like he had long since given up on himself. She knew if he could only start believing in himself again he would have such a great future. He could be _happy_ and, who knew, even find someone to love and love him in return.

Again he shrugged, the movement making him seem more like a petulant little boy than a thirty-two-year-old, quite brilliant neurosurgeon. "I know I shouldn't let stuff like that get me all bent out of shape, but it's just with the shrink and all…" His voice trailed off, the understanding between the siblings being perfectly clear without any further explanation.

She nodded, understanding his pain. "Are you sure you want to go to work to today? I'm know Carlisle would understand if-"

"No, I want to go," Edward insisted before his sister could finish speaking. Even if he had been as sure as she seemed to be that her husband wouldn't mind Edward calling in sick only a few hours before his shift was supposed to start, he really did want to go in and work that day. He needed to. To forget.

It had always been the one big difference between open and high spirited Esme and her more introverted, broody little brother. Where Esme needed to talk and open up whenever something wronged her, Edward needed the quiet of his mind to work through his issues. And when quietude was temporarily unavailable, he needed the distraction of his work to push things aside until he could address them.

"How did it go anyway?" Esme asked after a while. "With the therapist? Do you think it's going to work?"

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know. Fine, I guess."

"Are you saying that because you really don't know if you and the new shrink will mesh or because you hate the idea of therapy and won't even give it a fair shot to begin with?" Judging by the way Esme's brow arched as she studied him, Edward had the sinking suspicion she'd known the answer to that question even before she asked it. _She knows me too well. _

"Both?" he tried, whishing like hell that something would come along to divert her attention. "I guess as far as shrinks go, this one isn't that bad but, it's just…I dunno."

He let out a long breath, trying to stall for time as he reluctantly tried to explain himself. "Shrinks…they always seem to want to talk about the one thing you don't want to talk about and even when you politely tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. They keep on pushing and nagging until, in the end, you cave." He cringed, his heart still hurting from yesterday's 'get-to-know-you-session' with his new therapist. "I just…I need more time. I can't deal with all that shit right now."

"But it's been almost three years, Edward," Esme's voice was laced with the pain she'd been feeling ever since that devastating night that she'd held her brother, shattered and broken beyond repair, in her arms. "You can't keep everything bottled up indefinitely. It will kill you, if it hasn't already. Hell, it's killing _me_ to see you like this."

"Spoken like a true bystander!" Edward chuckled bitterly, washing the bad taste his words left behind away with the remnants of his espresso.

"That's not fair!" Esme gasped, her eyes filling with tears. "I might not have felt a tenth of the pain you've been feeling for the past three years but do you really think it's easy to stand by and watch your baby brother destroy himself? Hell, there were times when we thought we'd be burying you beside her before the year was over!"

At the sight of his sister's tears, his anger and frustration deflated, his shoulders slumping forward as a new wave of guilt washed over him. "I'm sorry, Es," he muttered and reached out across the table to grab her hand. "I shouldn't have-"

"Let's just forget it?" Esme suggested, her eyes still slightly watery as she brushed the tears away.

Edward nodded, his lips curling into a wry smile. His whole life had been about forgetting stuff and sweeping the nastier aspects of it under the rug to be dealt with at a different time. Even though his rug was starting to resemble the pyramid of Giza, he was quite confident there was still some room for more. "I probably should get going anyway."

"Yeah." Esme smiled sadly. "Wouldn't want the rest of the doctors to think you're cutting corners, would you?"

"Exactly." Edward tried to smile as he gathered his things, making sure his notes were in his briefcase and that was wearing a suitable tie in case they had to make an emergency stop at the Harrison's. "Oh," he stopped, remembering just in time before he'd be out the door. "Don't count on me for dinner. I'm heading out to Sam's with a few colleagues."

"You're going out?" That little bit of news cheered Esme up instantly, her eyes shining with a need to know as they focused in on him. "It's Rachel, isn't it? You're going on a date with Rachel Black?"

Edward scratched his head, wondering how on earth's name she could have guessed. _Was he giving off some kind of smell or something?_ "It's…er…it's not a date," he finally muttered, trying to play it off so his sister wouldn't pounce on him the way he knew she would if she believed it to be a date. "We're merely having drinks with a few co-workers."

"She's a great girl," Esme rattled off as if he hadn't said anything to the contrary. "Her family runs the supermarket. Great people and very well-liked around town, though, I do seem to remember they had some troubles a few years back."

"Once again, all that information might have been handy if I was going on a _date_ with the girl, but I'm not." Edward smirked. "So please don't make this into anything more than it is. We're just _friends_."

The look on Esme's face as he closed the door gave him little room to hope she'd understood. _Nope_. As he crossed the garden path to where his car was parked, he started to wonder if his sister was already decorating the imaginary house of Mr. and Mrs. Edward and Rachel Masen. _Like that is ever going to happen!_

No, he'd already rushed into one marriage only to find out that _staying_ together was a lot harder than actually _getting_ together. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. If he was ever going to marry, or even give his heart to a girl, again – and that was a big _if_ – he was definitely going to take his time to find out if the woman he was with was really 'the one'.

Besides, he hardly thought Rachel was going to be the woman who could entice him to make another dash along the aisle. She was cute and, from what he's seen of her, she seemed fun to be around, that much was for sure, and he imagined they would have a good time together while he sat out his voluntary exile in small town Washington but, as far as he was concerned, that was it. He didn't feel that deep connection to her that a guy should feel for the woman he planned to give his name to. He knew better than to think a connection like that could be forged by sheer will.

By the time he made it over to the hospital for his mid-afternoon shift, the ER was flooded with patients. Apparently there had been some kind of monumental mix up at the local high school, resulting in a massive flood of food poisoning and an ER filled with kids puking their guts out. _Great! As happy as he is to be out in the field again, puking kids aren't exactly high on his list of things he's missed. _

He and Carlisle spent most of their shift handing out emesis basins and putting in IVs for the patients in danger of dehydration. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, he'd already been puked on and changed out of his button up and into different sets of scrubs more times than he could count, the smell of stale vomit clinging to him like a cheap, and quite disgusting, perfume.

"Are you ready to head out?" he looked up to see Rachel's head poking through the curtain. His patient, a drunk driver who'd been brought in after folding his car around a tree before proceeding to throw up, which appeared to be the theme of his day, and fell into a deep, almost coma-like state, snoring loudly in his sleep.

"I'm just gonna finish up over here and grab a quick shower," he answered, his fingers never faltering as they lined up row after row of perfectly identical stitches. "I'll meet you guys over there."

"Okay." Rachel smiled as she nodded. "I'll save you a spot."

"Save me a beer as well," he grinned, winking as she backed out through the curtain, her cheeks flushed and her movements slightly uncoordinated.

"Well, what do you know," he mused, knowing 'drunk guy' was still too spaced out on his alcohol buzz to hear. "Maybe this whole flirting thing ain't half bad after all."

In fact, he was quite enjoying it. It brought back memories of his college days, when he'd been unattached and filled with cocky thoughts about how he was going to rule the world of medicine. It seemed so long ago now, what with the past eight years being filled with nothing but 'grown up' responsibilities and serious relationships. He wouldn't mind having that again; the rush of adrenaline as he went in pursuit and the satisfaction as he got what he wanted.

Chuckling to himself, he went back to the task of stitching him back together, the cuts his windshield had made as it shattered all around him giving Edward more than enough practice to re-sharpen his somewhat rusty stitching skills.

"Didn't your shift end half an hour ago?" The curtain shifted again, this time to allow entry to Maggie Molina, one of the regular docs at the hospital. "I can take over if you want."

"Nah," Edward shrugged. "I'd like to see this through, if you don't mind. I'm just about done anyway."

"Suit yourself." Just as he expected, Maggie peered over his shoulder as soon as she got the chance, the temptation to study his craftsmanship too great to pass up. He leaned back, knowing his handiwork could withstand scrutiny from even the greatest of critics. "I have to admit, I'm impressed," she spoke nodding her approval. "It's not often that you see guys as young as you make 'em as close and even as those."

"I learned from the best, I guess." Edward shrugged, remembering the many hours he'd spent perfecting his stitches, often with one of his mentors watching over his shoulder. "Besides, with a last name like mine, I wanted to make damn sure everyone knew I got where I was because of my skills, not because of who my dad is."

It was why it stung more, knowing the only reason he was still practicing medicine, and would be able to pick his career back up once his probation at St. Mary's was over, was because of his name and his dad's money. All his work, everything he'd fought so hard for…it would have been for nothing without them.

"I can see that!" Maggie noted, flipping through the pages in the chart. "Well, you know what you're doing, kid. I think I may have to give you the benefit of the doubt after all."

And just for that, Edward might have been willing to overlook the fact that she was calling him 'kid', his smile widening as he watched her walk away from out of the corners of his eyes, his hands putting the finishing touches on the stitches.

He was finally out the door about half an hour later after a quick shower and a change of clothes, choosing to cross the short distance from the hospital to Sam's on foot. His heart rate picked up the closer he got to the small sports bar, his eagerness to get to know his colleagues in general, and Rachel in particular, a bit better multiplying with every step he took. Besides, it would be fun to hang out without his sister hovering over him for a change.

Arriving at the bar, he found the place already packed with local folk and the odd combination of eighties retro wooden interiors, big, plasma screens hanging from most of the walls and a small stage tucked into a corner, almost buried under the weight of a rundown piano, a small drum kit and a mic stand.

It was a strange place, even though it didn't aim to be; the décor making it hover somewhere between diner, sports bar and a blues joint, a schizophrenia the patrons seemed to reflect seeing as almost all ages from fifteen to ninety-five seemed to be present. And it seemed to be filled with familiar faces; the sports-bar nature of the place meaning that a lot of those were the kids who'd managed to evade the big puke-fest of that afternoon.

To the other side of the room, where a small dance floor separated the booths from the stage and the bathroom doors, Jasper was twirling a tall, black-haired girl around, their laughter rising up from above the rockabilly road music as she crashed into his arms, completely breathless and with a big smile on her face. Jasper's smile mirrored hers as he held her close, their feet falling into the rhythm of the mellow country song that followed as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Edward averted his eyes, his feelings confused as he sought distraction among some of the other faces filling the crowded bar. He was happy that Jasper was having fun. He was a good kid and the girl, who Esme had told him was named Maria, was pretty and dressed in that same eclectic mixture of tie-dye, worn knitwear and Chuck Taylors as he was. She must have been another member of the group most townsfolk called the 'tree huggers', which explained why they were together in the first place, since Jasper didn't strike him as the kind of guy who was willing to compromise his own ideals and principles just for some piece of ass.

Still, watching them together he couldn't help but envy the guy for what he had. It had been too long since he had held a woman in his arms. _Way too long._

"Edward!" Following the sound of the familiar voice, Edward spotted Rachel and a few other familiar faces crammed into a booth near the back, the table overflowing with drinks and buffalo wings as a fair share of the hospital staff sat eating, drinking and celebrating the fact that they'd made it through yet another day at the hospital.

He smiled, the shuffling of his feet along the well-used floorboards drowned out by the sounds of the well-known tunes pouring from the sound system.

"Finally!" Rachel beamed, scooting further into the booth to free up a spot next to her for him. "I was starting to fear you'd bailed on us." She was quick to close the gap as he settled in beside her, aligning her body so their sides were almost flush against each other.

He chuckled, his hands closing around the full pint of beer she nudged in front of him with the sides of her hands, the tips of her fingers too greasy from the wings she'd been eating. "Never!" he assured her, his whole being groaning with satisfaction as he sat back and let the earthy, slightly bitter taste of the beer wash his palate. "I just had a hard time putting humpty-dumpty back together again."

"You mean the drunk driver?" Mark Banner asked, his eyes glassy from lack of sleep after he'd just come off a double shift, and the consumption of a lot of beer in a short amount of time, his arm wrapped around Nurse Beckett, the girl he was not-so-secretly involved with.

Edward nodded. "I must have put close to a thousand stitches into the guy."

"Nasty things, those windshields," Mark grinned, his smile containing no small amount of sarcasm. "I'm glad I was unavailable when that one was brought in."

"I guess I'm going to have to get used to being a grunt all over again, huh?" Edward smirked, chasing away his not-so-fond memories of the first few months at St. Mary's with a large gulp of his drink.

"You've got that right," Mark grinned, tipping his glass to him before downing it in one draft. There was a slightly sharp undertone to his voice as he spoke, leaving Edward no doubt that his newness wasn't so much the cause of his low position of the hospital totem pole as his past. _Well, I guess I deserve this._

Edward sighed, knowing that, like when he'd started out as an intern at St. Mary's, the best way to get through it was to just grin and bear it and hope his stoic behavior would soon take the fun out of the game.

Rachel, noticing his change of mood, nudged him softly under the table, her smile making it almost impossible for him to stay all broody and morose as she whispered in his ear. "I bet that in two weeks' time, they'll all be eating out of your hand." Her breathy voice and the simple nearness of her more than achieved the effect she was after; his cock hardening in his pants as he leaned in, his free arm slung over the top of the booth as he brought her even closer.

"What are the two of you whispering about?" Banner jokingly wondered. "You'd better watch out for that one, Cullen. These nurses have a way of sinking their claws into us unsuspecting doctors!"

Rachel stuck out her tongue as Nurse Beckett shrieked and playfully slapped her boyfriend in the shoulder. "I'll get you for that!"

He was about to change the subject when a loud shriek of laughter caught his attention, a flash of golden hair and blue eyes making him squint his eyes to get a better look. "Is that…." He muttered, the rest of his words dying on his lips when Rosalie turned her face towards him, her eyes immediately tightening into a glare. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Technically, this is more of a sports-bar kind of place," Rachel, following his gaze, explained. "It means that the kids can get in, but only for food and games. Besides…" she sat back as Edward felt the slight pressure of her hand on his shoulder, "it's not like they can get up to any mischief in here. Sam knows almost everyone in this town _and_ their ages and not even those kids are stupid enough to do something illegal in front of the whole town."

"Yeah, but she's supposed to be grounded." Though her words managed to calm him some, they did nothing to stop his hackles from rising as Edward recognized the other kids who had threatened Isabella in that alley on his first day in Forks.

There they were, sitting in a booth across the room from him, all smug smiles and entitled gestures like the world belonged to them and the rest of the people in the bar weren't even good enough to lick the soles of their shoes. It made him so angry, his hands subconsciously clenching into fists by his sides as he stared at them, somehow unable to look away.

"Is something wrong?" Rachel, picking up on his annoyance, asked.

He shook his head, trying to dispel his anger. "Nah…I just don't really like Rosalie or her group of friends."

"Join the club!" Rachel giggled. "Around here, you're either in the Kings' little clique or you hate them with a passion. There's no middle ground, I'm afraid."

"Well, seeing as I have to live with the girl, that sounds rather unfortunate."

"Poor Edward!" she cooed, leaning into his side as a waitress brought another round of beers to their table.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice drowned out by his glass as he brought his beer to his lips. "Poor me," he muttered.

Conversation flowed easily after that, the constant appearance of fresh beers, as well as the fact that Mark and Nicole had seemed to pair of, leaving Rachel and Edward to fend for themselves, aiding them in finding their bearings around each other.

The bar, though still schizophrenic in its appearance, was the perfect setting for their first semi-date; the people crammed inside like sardines, as well as efforts of those brave enough to jump the stage for a round of karaoke, providing them with ample material to fill the gaps as they went through the motions every couple goes through on their first date.

That was, until Rachel's eyes suddenly went wide, her lithe little body climbing over Edward's as she wriggled out of the booth with her arms outstretched. "Jakey!"

"Ouch!" a young man who'd just sauntered into the bar, wearing filthy jeans and a well-worn Mariners cap grunted, rubbing his ears in reaction to Rachel's high-pitched squeal. "You may want to check your voice, sis. I think even bats were able to hear you."

"Oh, shush!" Rachel playfully scolded, whacking him square in the chest as she tugged him towards their booth. "Edward, this is my brother Jake. Jake, this is Edward."

"You're the new doc around town, ain't ya?" he asked, plopping down next to him with a brass that made Edward's hackles rise almost immediately. "Izzy told me about you."

"Izzy?" he frowned, his mind catching up too slow for him to put two and two together before Jake spoke again.

"Isabella Harrison?" he offered. "She told me you dropped by with doc Cullen to check up on the old man."

"Oh, _that_ Isabella." Edward's face pulled into a hard line, his mind not entirely clear on what he liked less: Isabella talking about him behind his back or Isabella talking to this baboon of a man. "You know her?"

"Of course I do." The way Jacob tried to lay claim on her wasn't lost on Edward, his eyes narrowing as he gave the boy a hard stare in return. "I do odd jobs around the house for the old man. Can't help but strike up an acquaintance when you do, can ya?"

"I guess not," Edward grumbled, still trying to find out why he was feeling jealous when in reality there was nothing between Isabella and him, but bad blood.

"Oh, fuck no!" Both men were suddenly quiet as Rachel's gasp cut through their apparent pissing contest. "Jacob, do something before Emmett makes a complete fool of himself!"

As Jake followed the direction his sister's eyes were fixed in, a loud, resounding 'fuck' fell from his lips, just in time with the start of a new song. "Too late," he cringed as Emmett's rough, but surprisingly melodious voice rang out. "Mandy? Really?" Jake snorted, stealing another gulp of his sister's beer. "I thought the boy had better taste."

Over at the table across from them, Rose's friends were having a blast making fun of the poor young man, unwittingly trying his best to impress the girl who was starting to look more pissed off by the minute, even though, compared to the original, Emmett's voice wasn't giving that bad a rendition of the Barry Manilow classic at all. It was just the song in itself was so awful to begin with that there was no messing it up, even by a scrawny kid with an unsteady voice.

"_Oh, Rosie, you came and you gave without taking."_ The hilarity in Rose's booth grew to new heights as Emmett started adapting the lyrics to fit the object of his serenade, his frame slowly starting to slump as more of the reactions to his well meant salutation started to register with him.

Rose, meanwhile, was fuming; her hands crossed in front of her chest as she glared at the brave boy on the stage almost as if she could set fire to him by sheer force of will.

It was at that point, halfway through the chorus, that Sam decided the poor boy had suffered enough, his hands quick and sure as they pulled the plug on the karaoke machine. His wife escorted a defeated looking Emmett from the stage amidst a raging outpour of hoots and catcalls coming from a certain table.

The rest of the town watched it all happen with the kind of horror that usually strikes people when they witness a disaster take place right in front of their eyes. They all wanted to do something, and were mightily ashamed that they didn't, but they just couldn't get their minds to stop gawping in amazement long enough to pull their bodies into action.

"Can someone please explain to me what the hell just happened?" Edward asked as slowly, but surely, the natural order of things returned. He left sorry for the kid, especially since, from the reactions he picked up on all around him, it wasn't the first time the boy had made a complete ass out of himself in front of others.

"That was Emmett," Mark, the first one to regain his composure, needlessly announced. "You'll see him from time to time at the hospital since his mom is Carlisle's secretary and he volunteers whenever he can."

Edward nodded, "Go on."

"He's been carrying a torch for Rosalie for as long as anyone can remember and I'm afraid he isn't very subtle about it," Rachel chimed in, her face all compassion as she watched Emmett's pitiful retreat through the backdoor, "but since he's basically from the wrong side of the tracks, Rose won't even give him the time of day."

"Not that he lets _that_ deter him," Mark nodded. "You've got to give him credit for being as persistent as a woodpecker. Over the years he's tried almost everything to win her heart, even if it means embarrassing the hell out of himself like he did tonight."

"It never works, though," Rachel picked up again, the laughter and dripping sarcasm pouring from Rose's booth underlining her statement. "And while we all worry about the poor boy, most of us just wonder why the hell he even wants that little bitch after all she's put him through. No offense."

"None taken," Edward chuckled. After all, his opinion of Rosalie was pretty much the same as everyone else's.

Rachel sighed, her eyes sad as she watched the door Emmett had been ushered out through. "I just hope he'll see how wasted his heart is on that little snake and finds a girl who appreciates him for who he is. He's such a good kid."

Emmett's performance, however unfortunate it might have been, proved to be the highlight of the night; the rest of it passing without further incident as Edward got to know his colleagues in general, and Rachel in particular, a little better until closing time forced them out.

"Where are you parked?" Edward asked as he helped Rachel into her coat.

"I'm not," she chuckled, a little unsteady on her feet after several beers and a perpetual state of flusteredness as Edward sat beside her all night, a little closer with every drink they imbibed in. "I live right around the corner, across from the hospital."

"I'll walk you, then," he smiled, linking his arm with hers. "My car's still in the hospital lot."

As they walked, side by side in a comfortable silence, Edward tried to take stock of the night. He had enjoyed himself, which was a fact. His colleagues had proven to be the kind of people he could hang out with even beyond office hours, and Rachel…she was turning into exactly what he needed to get back into the saddle again after Tanya and Claire. She was carefree, down to earth and easy to be around with. Just the kind of thing a guy would wish for when it came to having someone around to have fun with, but nothing else. She'd be fun to have around, yet, easy to walk away from when the time came for him to go back to Chicago.

But as he brushed his lips briefly against hers in parting, it didn't feel as it should, because there was one thought that kept on singing in the background of his mind.

They were the wrong lips.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

* * *

_**I added a picture for this chapter to the blog. You can find the link on my profile page. **_

* * *

** 8. **

_**The boy.**_

Waking up that Saturday morning, Edward felt oddly frustrated. On the one hand, there was nothing he wanted to do more than to go out for a run; breathe in the crisp, fresh air as the wind swept through his hair while the forest around him breathed with the soft winds of the rare, beautiful day. On the other hand, however, was the chance of running into Isabella again, which was most certainly not something he was looking forward to. Yet, at the same time, part of him wanted nothing more than to see her again.

He hated it.

She was like a drug to him and he was starting to find it harder and harder to abstain. _Like he needs any more addictions. _He groaned, pulling his pillow over his head as his breathing coming out in harsh pants while he tried to push the image of her – red, pouty lips, pale white skin and eyes that seemed to pierce right through him – out of his mind.

And so his decision had been made, the risk of more confusion and conflicted feelings far outweighed the benefits of the great outdoors. But it wasn't like he was scared of a girl or anything. He snorted bitterly as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as his bare feet made contact with the cold floor_. Yeah, try convincing yourself of that, Edward. Hell, maybe if you repeat it often enough, you'll even start to believe it. _

Ten minutes later, he found himself quickly scarfing down a danish, his bag already slung over one shoulder as he got ready to try out Forks' one and only gym. Before he was out the door, though, the sound of his brother-in-law's voice stopped him.

"Going out?" Edward jumped a little, not having seen Carlisle appear in the doorway. Empty coffee cup in hand and he looked like a man who clocked in too many hours at work with dark circles under his eyes and frown lines digging into his forehead. Edward felt sorry for the guy, even if it had been Carlisle's own choice to become the chief. If anything, the sight of his brother-in-law only cemented his conviction never to follow in his steps. As long and sometimes dragging as his own shifts were, he was happy to serve them out without the added stress and pressure of running the place and trying to undertake the impossible task of making everyone – doctors, nurses, patients and board members – happy.

"Yep," Edward nodded, realizing Carlisle was waiting for his reply. "Gotta do something to keep in shape."

"Indoors?" The funny look Carlisle gave him made Edward suspect that Esme had already told her husband about Edward's taste for outdoor running, but if Carlisle indeed found it strange that Edward suddenly seemed to prefer the stifling aroma of an aging gym to the freshness of the forest, he didn't comment.

Edward shrugged. "Thought I might try it out for a change."

"Right." Carlisle's look was skeptical, though he didn't press the matter. "Do you have time to drop by the Harrisons' afterwards?" he went on to ask. "Usually I'd do it myself but since I have to cover for Maggie all day, I'm not sure I can sneak out in between patients."

And there went his resolve to avoid Isabella as much as possible. In fact, it felt almost as if the universe was conspiring against his desire to choose the right path at the moment. _So much for avoidance tactics_. Edward hid his smirk behind his gym bag as he nodded, the reluctance in his voice belying his words as he spoke. "Sure. I think I've got time before my shift starts."

"Good." Carlisle looked rather pleased. "They're probably fine but with them living so far out in the wilderness, I always like to pop over a few times each week to make sure Aro hasn't taken a turn for the worse."

_Or if his evil caretaker hasn't put arsenic in his drink when he wasn't looking_, Edward thought, his sarcasm knowing no bounds where it came to the brusque behavior of stone-cold Isabella. It may have been his experience with cold, abrasive people or his wounded pride, but the way she bugged him was quite unlike any other unpleasant experience he'd ever had with the human race. And that was saying something, considering the household he'd grown up in.

But he couldn't very well voice his true opinion so he just stuck to professionalism; assuming the same mask he wore when dealing with a tough patient or discerning superior. "Is there anything you particularly want me to look at?"

"Not really." Carlisle shook his head. "I've already monitored and logged his condition when we visited him earlier. This one is just to see how he's doing. Besides, it's a prime opportunity to for you to bond with him."

Edward nodded, knowing that if he was to play a significant role in treating this patient, his discomfort where it came to the girl would have to take a backseat. James Harrison wasn't the kind of patient that could be bowled over by expertise and authority. No, in order to get closer to this man and have the opportunity to study his disease, he would have to knuckle down and spend time with him...earn his trust and, with it, the right to play a part in his treatment. As eager and impatient as Edward was to get involved, he knew he needed to put in a lot more time before that would happen. Time he was more than willing to sacrifice, though. No matter how much scorn and animosity he would be exposing himself to in the process.

Isabella Harrison would just have to be endured. Like another burden added to his load.

On his drive over to the other edge of town, where the small, slightly dilapidated one story building of _Fitness 2000_ stood, he busied himself trying to come up with the right approach; his mind weighing the pros and cons of different ways to try and earn Aro's trust as he steered through the now almost familiar streets of Forks. Going for familiarity would be a capital mistake; it didn't only clash with the life Aro had set up for himself but it would probably also play into his paranoia. However, staying on the fringes and acting purely professional would make it extremely difficult and even more time-consuming than his efforts already were to establish a bond of confidence with his patient.

_Ugh!_ Edward groaned with his hands still clenched around the steering wheel even though he'd parked his car minutes ago. If his supervisors back at St. Mary's would have known just how 'easy and stress free' his six month stay in Forks was shaping up to be, they would have thought twice before allowing him to make the journey. He was glad they didn't know, though, even if his head was completely spinning with the herculean task that lay in front of him.

The minute he finally walked into the gym he'd already started to regret his decision to stick to the indoors; the dated décor, the loud pop music thumping from the sound system and the stench in the air of many workouts before him stirring Edward with nothing but the urge to run…away from the place, that was.

"You're the new doc, ain't ya?" a man, clad in a t-shirt bearing the name of the gym asked as he walked up to him.

Edward nodded. "I'm Edward Masen, yeah. I'd like to join this gym."

"Great!" the guy answered. "I'm Quill Ateara, the regular instructor here, so most of the time you'll be dealing with me." He grinned as he shook Edward's hand, his face bearing that healthy, good-humored look that seemed to be characteristic of sports enthusiasts all over the world. "Let's get you set up. That is, unless you want to keep stand here and discuss my unusual name."

"Nah," Edward chuckled as he followed Quill to the changing rooms. "It _is_ unusual, though. Spanish?"

"Native American," Quill answered. "I'm from the rez, down by first beach?" He waited for Edward to nod before he went on. "Folks are even talking about you around my neck of the woods. You should consider yourself famous."

"I'll remember to put on a hoodie and a pair of shades next time I go outdoors, just to keep the fangirls at bay," he joked back, inwardly chastising himself for not picking up on the name. Of course he knew of the nearby Quileute reservation, already having had a few of its residents stop by his work. Why the hell had he thought the name was Spanish?

Luckily, the paperwork didn't take long to finish and, before he knew it, Edward was finally on the treadmill, cranking up the sound on his iPod to drown out the bubblegum pop as the monotony of his movements and the slight burn in his muscles swept him away and calmed his mind. It might not have been the same as running outdoors, but as the minutes passed, and that satisfying sheen of sweat started to cover his warmed skin, and even Edward had to admit that it was actually a pretty good workout.

After half an hour he switched, following the sign downstairs to the weights-section in the basement; the place empty except for one lone and slightly familiar figure groaning under the weight of far too much iron for such a scrawny kid.

Normally it wasn't in Edward's nature to butt into other people's lives or exercise regimens but in this case, he figured he probably had to. Before he had gone downstairs he'd noticed Quill was busy checking in some blonde beach babe and the kid looked like he was about to burst a vein in his forehead. Better to step in now than to have him in his OR later on.

"You're Emmett, right?" he asked, cautiously approaching the sweaty mess suspended on the weightlifting bench lest the boy would startle and hurt himself. "Need a spotter?"

"I'm…fine," the Emmett croaked, though his difficulty with which he spoke belied his optimism.

"Here." Edward left him no choice; moving in no matter what the kid said and putting the weight bar -which was heavy even for him- back into the brackets. "Let me help you with that."

"I _said_ I was fine," Emmett grumbled petulantly, rubbing his sore arms as he sat back up. "And how do you know my name anyway?"

Edward shrugged. "I caught your performance last night."

"Oh." Emmett's shoulders fell as he was painfully reminded of his failure to impress the object of his affection.

"Yeah." Edward sat down next to him, figuring the boy needed some kind of pep talk or at least a sympathetic ear given the state he was in. "So, you're trying to build some muscle to impress the girls?" They both knew there was only one girl Emmett was trying to impress but Edward figured a little bending of the truth would probably go over better given the way things had turned out the previous night.

Emmett nodded dejectedly. "It doesn't help, though."

"That's because you're starting out too heavy," Edward started deciding symbolism would probably be the right tool to go with. "You have to build it up to make it stick." _As with the wooing. _He smirked when he thought back on the way the poor boy had sang his heart out the night before.

"That's what Quill said," Emmett pouted, "but I don't have the time to take things slow. Clock's ticking and there are only so many weeks left before finals and college. I can't afford to waste any time, doc."

"You have a little under two years, right?" Edward waited for Emmett to confirm that fact before he went on. "That's _a lot_ of weeks to get things going. It should be more than enough time to grow some muscle following a sensible plan. The way you're going now, though…" he shook his head for extra effect, "you're only burning muscle, and probably faster than you can grow it."

If anything, that particular message got through to him, Emmett looking from Edward to the weight bar and back to Edward again as slowly but surely he started to realize that maybe he wasn't going about this whole 'getting buff' thing the right way. "Man, why can't I be more like my dad!" he finally groaned.

"Let me guess, he's a logger?" He'd heard a few story's about the 'McCarty clan' at the hospital; most of them accompanied with scornful smirks as they joked about the plentiful brood of Nora McCarty, even though around the hospital she was greatly valued and well-respected. To Edward, all he heard was the hard-wrought story of a working class family with six kids, trying to make ends meet in the middle of a depression.

"Yep." Emmett let out a deep sigh. "_He's_ huge and he doesn't even have to work for it. Like my brother, Paul."

"So you wanna be just like the two of them?" Edward guessed.

"In appearances, yes," Emmett replied, "in everything else? Not so much. I wanna be a doctor. Not that I ever will be."

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "I've wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember, it's just the grades that worry me."

"The grades?" Edward asked.

Emmett nodded. "They're good, but good enough to earn me a full scholarship?" He shrugged. "It's where being born in obscure, little Forks doesn't exactly help. There are kids out there in better schools who will get the opportunities, not the poor little beggar in bumfuck Washington."

"I could help you with that," Edward spoke, feeling for the first time in his life that being born into a golden cage might not be such a bad thing if it meant that he could help others escape their cages. "My family-"

"Thanks doc," Emmett interrupted him before Edward could elaborate, "but if it's all the same to you, I think I'll pass. I want to make it out there by my own merit, not because I have the right kind of friends."

Edward smiled, patting the kid on the back. "As it should be." He wondered if Rosalie would ever know the true value of the offer she had been casting aside so callously for Edward might not have known Emmett that well – or Royce King for that matter – but from what he did know, he could already tell that the former outshone the latter in every matter, but money. "If you need any help, though…"

"I'll let you know." Emmett somehow managed to crack a smile, his shoulders already a little straighter as he eyed the weight bar. "So, start small, huh?"

"That's the trick," Edward nodded, "build it up slow if you want to make it stick."

"Sounds logical," Emmett mumbled. "So, you have any advice on women?"

"Basically the same," Edward chuckled. "If you drown a girl in grand tokens of affection, the only thing you'll do is scare the shit out of her and you don't want that, do you?" Once again he waited for Emmett to nod before he went on. "Be her friend first. Show her that, even though the two of you are different, you can be what she needs."

"I doubt she'd even notice," Emmett's face slumped with defeat again as he shook his head, making Edward want to rant away about how there were tons of girls prettier and definitely more worthy of his attention that Rosalie. But he didn't. Because he knew intrinsically how far gone Emmett was and in the state he was in…there simply were no other girls.

"Love is not a sprint," Edward warned him. "It's one hell of a marathon but even though there are times when you think about giving up or even dying by the roadside, we all know the end result is worth it. And I'm not talking about sex." He gave Emmett a poignant look, reveling in the way the boy's cheeks changed color quickly. Grinning to himself he rose from the bench, eager to go on with his workout as he patted Emmett on the back. "You'll do fine, Emmett."

"Thanks, doc," the boy called after him. "I'll see ya around the hospital."

Mercifully, the rest of his workout passed in a much more tranquil manner as both men set to their individual routines; Edward doing his usual weights while Emmett was starting to find out that if you didn't attempt to lift something the weight of a baby elephant, working out could actually be fun.

All too soon, though, his time was up. He had a late afternoon shift to be on time for – the last of his half-shifts before the hospital was finally going to treat him like a grown man and let him work a full one – and if he wanted to make it up to the Harrisons' and back before that, he really had to hustle.

One quick shower and a change into his work clothes later, and he was on his way. The tension settling in his shoulders with every mile he got closer to the house in the woods.

And with every mile he found it harder to deny the fact that part of him was actually looking forward to seeing the patient. And Isabella.

He didn't know why. Of course, his curiosity after his patient could be explained away by his professional interest in the case. After all, not even his mentors at Northwestern had ever mentioned coming across a case of FFI. His eager anticipation to see Isabella, however, completely befuddled him. Why he was subjecting himself to another round of hostile looks and barely veiled insults was something he wasn't altogether clear about but why he was looking forward to it? There must have been a streak of masochism running deep within him after all.

He didn't have long to think about it, though, his car taking him deep inside the forest towards the Harrisons' home before he could come up with a plan or even a frame of mind fit for the occasion.

_Whatever_, he thought as he got out of the car and grabbed his briefcase from the backseat. _I'm just here for the patient, anyway. _He's_ all that matters. _

Coming to a stop in front of the door, he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, the resounding sound of footsteps against the tall walls and roofs of the entrance hall following soon after.

Isabella's face was already reading like a thunderstorm but it clouded over even more as soon as she spotted her mystery guest standing on the front steps. "Oh, it's you," she grumbled, her voice only a hair's breath away from snarling as she stared back at him unabashedly. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Edward squared his shoulders, his eagerness at seeing the girl already completely gone as he reminded himself to stay professional. "I'm here to see my patient…to see Mr. Harrison. Carlisle would have come himself but he's tried up at the hospital at the moment and-"

"Well, my uncle is busy at the moment," she snapped, "and so am I. We cannot be disturbed."

She tried to close the door on him but Edward, with a fastidiousness that surprised even him, stopped her before she could do so, his foot throbbing as she slammed the door against it. "I understand, ma'am, but this will only take a minute. I'm just here to see if everything's still alright." It took a lot out of him to address her with ma'am, the title far too formal and polite for vicious little witch like her.

"Isabella? Who's at the door?" the patient sounded from within.

Isabella paled, her throat constricting visibly as she swallowed before she answered his question. "It's no one, Aro, just some traveler needing directions. I'll be right back."

_Traveler?_ Edward arched his brow as he looked back at her as she silently challenged him to speak up. Which he didn't. Because, apparently, he was a complete pussy. Or so he gathered from his sudden lack of words… or balls.

"Look." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes glaring fiercely as she tried her best to square up to him even though his tall frame loomed over her tiny one like the Eiffel Tower. "I'll just make this short and use small words so that even you can understand, we're fine, we're busy. _There_. Now go away."

And just like that, she closed the door in his face, her heels clicking down the wooden floor as she distanced herself from him. Literally.

"Fuck!" Edward gasped running a hand through his still wet hair. _What the hell had just happened? _

He knew that if it had been Carlisle standing there, he would probably have tried again and again, until he'd finally worn the screeching banshee down with his charm and patience but he? He'd suffered enough humiliation at the hands of Isabella Swan to go through all of that again. He wasn't a masochist or at least not so much that he would give her the satisfaction of shooting him down again and again and again.

He knew in that moment, still standing on the doorstep of the Harrison's home, he should have been thinking about the welfare of his patient and the dangers of leaving without ascertaining that Aro was, indeed, in good health. Even as he played back the tape in his mind, listening back to all of Isabella's words, he couldn't make himself focus on the few words he'd heard Aro speak for longer than to conclude that at least he sounded well enough.

_This is going nowhere_. He scowled almost as if it would somehow magically open the door and allow him inside where he had been so impolitely locked out. _He isn't going to get anywhere. Not today. _

He let out a deep breath, his finger pressing the doorbell in a second attempt to do his job but, though he could clearly hear the sound ringing throughout the house and knew they should have been able to hear it as well, nobody came.

What should he do? Leaving empty-handed went against everything the very oath he'd sworn but, apart from breaking into the house at the risk of being arrested, there was nothing else he _could_ do. Not with Isabella throwing a wrench into his plans. _Why did she do that? Why didn't she want him to see his patient? Why didn't she want him to take proper care of her uncle? _Five minutes of standing on their doorstep later and he was still no closer to an answer to any of those questions.

So he left again, his whole visit cut short to ten minutes of open warfare on the front steps before he was back in his car, determined to never again let it come as far as it had; to never again feel disappointed by her coldness or slighted by her hostility. Whatever foolish crush he might have started to develop for the strange girl, it was over now. He would be damned if he ever gave her a shot at getting to him again.

Isabella Swan was dead to him.

For real, this time.

Determined to cash in on his newfound strength, he pulled out of the driveway, his voice barking commands into his headset as he waited for his phone to dial and the call to be picked up.

"Hello?"

The cheerful voice immediately evaporated his anger, his shoulders relaxing as he smiled. "Rachel? Hi, how are you doing?" His rental car effortlessly navigated through the sharp turns and steep slopes of the mountainous territory as he talked through the common pleasantries.

His weight pressed down against the smooth leather upholstery and his smile widened as Rachel let out a little girlish squeal. "I was hoping you'd call me!"

"And here I am," he grinned back. "How are you doing?"

"Fine. You know? Just getting ready for my shift." His confidence surged with every word she said, the knowledge that with Rachel, at least, his presence wasn't just welcome, but very much encouraged, erasing some of the bitterness Isabella's acerbic rebuffal had left behind.

"Hey," he paused, his mind momentarily taken up with the navigation of a particularly sharp turn. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me sometime…"

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

_**I updated the blog with some stuff for this chapter. You can find the link on my profile page. **_

* * *

** 9. **

_**The brunch.**_

"Wake up, you lazy ass!" Esme grinned, enjoying her task a little too much as she yanked the curtains open, the watery sunlit morning light flooding her little brother's bedroom. "It's time to get up."

"Noooo." Edward groaned, trying to shield his eyes with the pillow as he rolled over in the bed, desperate to keep the light out for as long as he could.

"Yes." Esme, showing no mercy, snatched the pillow away, eliciting another groan from her brother - much to her delight, by the way.

_That'll teach him for all those mornings when he woke me up after I'd just gotten home from a clandestine nightly escape_, she thought, smiling smugly to herself. "Mass starts in little over an hour and if we want to make you look remotely presentable…well, you'll need a lot of work."

"Thanks," he grumbled, trying to pull his duvet over his head in absence of a pillow. "Wait…mass? Like in church?"

"Exactly like church," Esme snickered as she slowly watched understanding dawn on her brother's sleepy face.

_What the fuck?_ "But I don't even go to church!" Edward sat up, noticing formal dress Esme was in. He didn't think he'd seen her like that since she'd left their parents' home years ago, the slate grey dress and simple, but elegant, updo making her look so much younger than her real age.

It was good to see her looking like that again, even though she was particularly cruel for waking him up at such an early time. Especially with a demand he didn't really feel like fulfilling. "Seriously, Esme!" he grumbled, trying to swat her hands away as she tried to rob him of his last hiding place. "I haven't been to church in years, nor have I ever felt like going."

"Then you'll probably have a lot of sins to confess," she quipped, meeting her brother's glare with a brow arched in quiet challenge. "Now, will you get up by yourself or do you want me to help?"

It was in that moment Edward realized he was fighting a losing battle, a deep sigh gushing from his mouth as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. He knew that the more he resisted, the more she'd nag him until he would eventually give up. "I'll get up."

"Dress nicely," Esme ordered him as she started to make her retreat. "And no going back to sleep. I want you downstairs and looking neat in less than half an hour."

"Yes, ma'am," Edward grumbled, his eyes shooting daggers at the door even after Esme had pulled it shut behind her.

"Church," he groaned, resisting the strong call of his warm bed as he pushed himself up, wincing as his feet made contact with the cold floor. "What the hell am I going to do in church?"

His family, though Episcopalian in name, had never been very religious, only attending mass for weddings, funerals and other festive occasions. No, to his father _money_ was the only God and one he religiously worshipped even at the sacrifice of his own family. Going to church was something he only did if it came with the prospect of upholding the image of the family as old American 'royalty' or if he knew 'the right kind of people' were there for him to schmooze with.

As for Edward, he had never been a very religious man either, choosing nature and science as his faith and attending church only when he had to; either because his father ordered it or because an occasion required it.

Still, whether it was Carmen's influence who, devout catholic as she was, had always tried to instill her charge with the biblical values of fairness and kindness, or his mother's Mayflower puritan heritage, he had never truly turned away from the church. Even though he didn't believe as the institute and its representatives might have wanted him to, he'd always found something very comforting in the thought that there was something or someone out there who looked out for him and his loved ones.

That was, until the day he lost Claire.

The day his little girl died in his arms, was the day Edward definitively and, as he had believed at the time, irrevocably turned his back on God and his church. For how could a god who claimed to be merciful and loving sacrifice a little girl who was nothing but love, purity and light. No, Edward concluded on the day they lowered his precious little girl into the cold, hard earth, a God worthy of His people's worship would not have let it come to that and he would be damned if he was ever going to waste his time worshipping someone who was either negligent, cruel or non-existent.

He hissed, the cold stone of the marble floor causing a sharp pain to shoot through his knee as he put his weight on his legs, his still half-sleeping body fumbling limply towards the bathroom for a much needed shower. _Damn Esme and her religious guerilla! _

Reluctant though he was, Edward still managed to present himself, clean shaven and sharply dressed, well within the timeframe Esme had stipulated, earning him a satisfied grin, a cup of freshly-brewed strong, black coffee and a tasty Danish to chew on as the rest of the family finished getting ready. The faces of the younger Cullens showing that they were about as eager to attend Sunday worship as he was. For once, he was exactly on the same page as they were.

"I still don't see why _I_ have to go," Jasper grumbled, chewing on his pastry as if it were his last meal. "It's not like I'm shoving _my_ opinions down your throats."

"Oh really?" Carlisle arched his brow as he peeked at him from behind his newspaper. "Because I remember having to sit through a very passionate monologue about 'class healthcare' not so long ago and did you hear me grumbling like a petulant toddler over that? Besides, it's only an hour of your life and one very well spent if you'd ask me."

Jasper grimaced, sensing his defeat as he slumped down in his chair. "All I'm saying is that if they want more people to come to mass on Sunday, they might consider pushing it back a few hours or so. Most people like to sleep late on Sunday morning."

"And it's not like you're so very religious, Dad!" Rosalie chimed in, her attention shifting between working a glass nail file over her fingernails - the sound of which almost driving Edward to violence - and pointedly ignoring her stepmother. "You're only going to appease the old biddies."

"I go because in my – _our_ – family, attending Sunday mass has been a tradition for as long as anyone can remember," Carlisle answered, his voice stern as he hoped to cut short the discussion once and for all. "You might not see it the way I do right now, but when you're older you'll thank me for insisting on your attendance."

"But mom-" Rosalie persevered.

"You don't live under Caroline's roof any longer," Carlisle cut in, "and as long as you'll live under mine, you _will_ abide by my rules."

"This is _so_ not fair," Rosalie huffed, glaring over her tea.

"Oh, shut up," Jasper growled. "Five minutes in, you'll get lost in ogling Royce and forget all about the fact that you have to attend the weekly brainwashing scheme of an institution that hasn't done nothing but kill creativity and originality in all its forms and abuse the innocent."

"Like you're so fucking holy, Jazz!" Rosalie was quick to bite back, pointing her vile in his direction.

"ENOUGH!" They both startled as Carlisle's fist connected with the table top, the dull thud making the cups and plates shake on its surface. "Every week it's the same damn tune all over again and just like every week, the outcome will not change no matter how much you two whine and mope. You _will_ attend mass and that's final."

All opposition was cut short with that and, though tense, the rest of the time before they all piled into Carlisle's Mercedes was passed in blissful silence; the adults eating their breakfast as the kids quietly moped above theirs.

The drive to St. Anne's Catholic Church was brief and virtually the same as the one Edward took to work, since Forks' catholic place of worship was located only two blocks away from Forks General Hospital.

"I know it doesn't look like much if you compare it to Grace Church back in Chicago," Esme whispered, stealing a minute of hushed conversation with her brother as they walked up to the rather small, wooden building, "but our priest knows what he's doing and his sermons always have something that makes me think about something I never stopped to wonder about. Don't resist it merely for the sake of resistance."

Edward chuckled, squeezing the arm that was linked through his. "You mean like the kids?"

"They're just being normal teenagers, I guess." Esme rolled her eyes, grinning as they followed the rest of the family. "Carlisle told me he wasn't so very different from them when he was their age."

"Then why not let them choose?" It struck him as odd that Carlisle would push something down his kids' throat when he himself had been in their position once.

"Carlisle values tradition above everything else." Esme shrugged, sighing as her eyes followed her husband. "The Cullens are Irish Catholics and over the years they have suffered oppression, persecution and even banishment to earn their freedom. He told me once that his family came to America fleeing the noose after his great-great grandfather and his son were caught aiding and abetting the resistance. I think…" She sighed again, taking a few moments to organize her thoughts. "Whenever Carlisle attends mass he sees their sacrifice and all the lives lost because of what they stood for."

"So he's honoring them by honoring God?" Edward mused, the idea not as strange to him as perhaps it should be. If fact, it sounded rather noble.

Esme nodded. "That's what I'm thinking. He says one day Jasper and Rosalie will understand his way of seeing it and will be grateful that he tried to connect them to their heritage. Just like his dad did with him."

"At least he managed to turn you into a believer," Edward joked, nudging his sister as they lingered outside the church.

"I don't think I'll ever be a true believer," Esme answered seriously, "but I have found that there's something very refreshing about having an hour each week to contemplate your own life and that of others. And I guess having a keen interest in art doesn't hurt either."

He nodded, knowing what she meant. As his sister traveled the globe she'd always send him postcards of the magnificent buildings and works of art she'd encountered on her way. More often than not those things had been connected in one way to another to the Christian faith. History and art were so closely connected to religion that there was almost no escaping it when you took an interest in them. "Let's just go in."

"That's the spirit!" Esme grinned, tugging him along after her as they finally made their way into the church, the neat rows of benches already filling up with people, some of which he knew, most of them completely unfamiliar.

They took their seats next to Carlisle and the kids in a pew midway down the aisle, Edward picking up a psalm book to get some idea of what was in store for him. In theory he knew that he was worshipping the same God as he had been back in Chicago; the differences between the Episcopal and Catholic churches being significant, but not as big as they could have been. In real terms, though, he was feeling like a fish out of water. And it wasn't just because of the differences in the religion he was brought up in and the one he found himself in the middle of at that moment.

No. As a small trickle of panicked sweat started to travel down his spine, he knew that the turmoil that welled inside of him had nothing to do with the religion itself as with the fact that he hadn't seen the inside of a church since that day they buried his daughter. And being back brought up all sorts of memories he'd much rather suppress. _The tiny white coffin, covered in flowers as it rested close to the alter - the faces of their closest friends as they carried it outside. Tanya's heartbroken cries as they lowered her into the earth and the feeling of having to walk away, of leaving his behind forever…_

It was a parents' worst nightmare, but for him, it had become a nightmare he'd had to live with every day of his life - the reality that she was dead because of him.

The constant opening and closing of the door to let people in was heard less and less as the start of service drew closer but, right before the choir broke into its first hymn and the priest could make his entrance, the door opened open more time to let in the last of the worshippers. Edward turned, his eyes widening as he turned around to spot the Harrisons. James leaning heavily on Isabella's arm as they strode in and took their seat in the nearest empty pew, their eyes firmly fixed to the front of the church as the rest of the congregation gawped at them.

"Great! The freaks have arrived," Rosalie mumbled, her eyes narrowing as they followed Edward's. "Just look at what she's wearing. It's so disrespectful, like, she's trying to mock us all."

Try as he might, Edward could find nothing disrespectful about the way Isabella was dressed. Her dress might have been one of the types that clung to every curve but unfortunately - though Edward cursed himself for even thinking about it - the cardigan she was wearing over it hid anything that might have been sensual or enticing from view.

There was something very erotic, though, about the way she was dressed. The simple modesty of her dress and cardigan, the otherworldly feel of the whole look and the demureness of the wrist length white gloves and crisp white hat that obscured her eyes and hair sending his thoughts into directions that were completely inappropriate for church, even though they were a form of worship.

As soon as service started, though, Edward's mind was drawn to the front of the church where the catholic ritual had commenced. It was strange but the minute the choir broke into its first hymn, a sense of peace washed over him that he hadn't known in a long time. He had expected panic and the onslaught of many more memories he'd tried so hard to suppress but instead, it was like the rest of the world – his troubles, guilt and all those little things that kept on swimming through his mind – just fell away, leaving his mind quiet and fixed on contemplations. The priest spoke of ancient tales he might have heard before but barely remembered and the lessons that could be learned from them for those who lived in the present world.

Slowly, the tension and anxiety at having to be in a church again with his memories of the last time he sat there still so fresh in his mind, started to slide away, his shoulders dropping and his brows relaxing back into their natural calm state as he let the serenity of the catholic mass wash over him.

It was pleasant, cleansing in what may not have been a traditional way but a way in which Edward could suddenly see the appeal of religion, where he had otherwise seen only the negatives. In fact, as service ended, he had to admit that he wasn't at all reluctant to go back the next week.

That was, until the opening notes of the final hymn send a chill to his bone, his whole body going rigid as he recognized the song they'd played, that black day, when his daughter's casket was carried out of the church on its way to its final resting place, burying his heart with it.

_Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee…_

Esme, recognizing her brother's stiff posture immediately, sought his hand with hers, the warmth and slight squeeze slowly distracting him from the disastrous path his mind had wandered onto.

…_.Darkness be over me, my rest a stone…._

"Are you okay?" she whispered, the pressure on her hand increasing when, instead of a reply all she got was a labored intake of breath as Edward tried to swallow around the big lump which had formed in his throat, a small trickle of cold sweat dripping from his temple. "Edward, look at me. Are you okay?"

…_..There let the way appear steps unto heav'n…._

The wild look in his eyes when finally his head moved slowly to the side, didn't do anything to alleviate her worries but at least she got a reaction out of him. "Do you need to leave?"

…_. So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee…._

Again, Edward forced his throat to swallow, his tongue wetting his dried lips before he finally spoke. "N-no, I'll…I'll be alright, I think."

Esme nodded, not at all reassured but more than eager to believe her brother's statement. "I'm here for you, you know that right?"

"I know." Edward nodded, trying to block out the song, as best as he could, as he attempted to regain command over himself. It was fortunate, for him, the song didn't last very long, the ringing of the bells drowning out the final stanza as the congregation broke up again, on their way to enjoy the rest of their day.

Carlisle's brows furrowed as he got up but apart from a nod and a slight smile, he didn't say or do anything, giving Edward the space the younger man needed to get his mind back to operating normally.

Edward nodded back, his hands clasped in his lap as he sat there, taking deep breaths as he tried to fight off the anxiety attack that still bubbled underneath the surface.

"Oh, great!" Rosalie muttered as she watched her father cross the distance to the Harrisons. "Just what I need!" She huffed theatrically, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she tried to stalk out of the pew, though the magnitude of her dramatic gesture was severely encumbered by the fact that the old-fashioned seats didn't exactly allow for much stalking to be done. "Well, if dad expects me to talk to that little freak he has another thing coming. It's one thing he drags me off to church but another if he expects me to mingle with the village idiots."

Even in his state of turmoil, Edward felt a spark of outrage hearing her talk about Isabella like that but, seeing as he had trouble even breathing in enough oxygen to keep himself going, strangling his disgusting step-niece wasn't an option at the moment.

"Aren't you already?" Jasper merely shook his head, his smirk hidden behind his long, greasy locks, though his voice was dripping with sarcasm as he followed his sister into the aisle. "I think even your average monkey has a higher IQ than Royce."

"Fuck you, Jasper!" she seethed, her brother narrowly escaping the elbow meant for his ribcage.

"No, thanks, that would be illegal, not to mention, completely gross," Jasper deadpanned, ducking out of range as his sister launched another attack on his body. "And violence in church, Rose? I'm so disappointed in you. What would God say if he saw you like this?"

"Probably that I'm the only sane person in this whole town full of nutcases," Rosalie growled, pushing her brother out of the way. "Now step aside… I see Royce."

"Yeah," Jasper muttered under his breath, scowling as he watched his sister walk towards her boyfriend with a little more sway to her hips than would have been appropriate in church. "God forbid you should lose a single moment mooning over that useless prick!"

Jasper!" Esme hissed, catching her stepson's final statement as she walked back from the conversation she'd been having with a few other women. "Mind your language! We're in church for heaven's sake!"

"Sorry, Esme," Jasper muttered, smiling as he linked his arm through hers as they walked away, finally leaving Edward with the peace and quiet he needed to get up and go back to normal. Or something like it.

At least if Jasper and Rosalie's little spat had done something, it was distract him long enough to somewhat calm his body; the urge to run or throw up - or throw up while running - already a little less than it was before as he kept taking deep breaths to stave off the attack, just like his shrink had taught him.

_God, I need a fix right now._ There was no stopping the sound of his subconscious as it made a demand he at one time in his life, wouldn't have even thought twice about meeting; the urge to just pop a pill and have the pain and everything else slowly fade to the background so overwhelmingly strong it made his body tremble like it had done during rehab.

But that was just it. Edward cringed, remembering how, in reality, he still _was_ in detox, even though the physical signs had long disappeared. His mind still wanted what had once been a very viable option. _Numbness._

However, with the shock of his subconscious' demand, also came a strong determination to never again fall into the trap of dependency and addiction. He'd gone there not so long ago and almost lost the one thing that made his life worth living: his career. He wasn't going to ruin it now, after all the hard work he'd put into making things right again.

And so he pushed the past back into the hidden corner of his mind, determined to keep it locked away for as long as he possibly could while he went back to what he should have been doing all along: _living_.

"Edward." Carlisle looked relieved when Edward finally joined him, a small pat on the shoulder communicating his compassion for the younger man's struggles. "Mr. Harrison was just telling me how pleased he was to see you in church this morning."

"It is not often, these days, that we get to welcome a new face in our midst," James nodded, his pleasure apparent in the look he gave Edward as he shook his hand, the skin and bone of the old man so frail against his own that Edward was almost frightened he was going to break or just dissolve upon impact. "It's always good to see the young upholding the values that made this country great." He smiled, benevolently patting the gloved hand that lay over his arm. "It is why I insist that Isabella accompanies me to church."

The forced smile the woman in question made Edward suspect that, had it not been for her uncle's insistence, she would probably still be in bed. Just like him.

"It's always my pleasure to join you, uncle," Isabella smiled back. "As I never stop telling you."

The tone of her voice, however, spoke volumes, contradicting her sweet words in a way that had Edward laboring to keep his smirk off his face as he played along. "So you see, Mr. Harrison, not all of us youngsters are godless rakes."

"True. But I fear the two of you are a dying breed!" James' laughter made some of the other people hovering near the door look up in surprise, his frail frame leaning so heavily on Isabella's arm that Edward sprang forward to assist, knowing a petite girl like Isabella couldn't hold the weight of a grown man, even an illness stricken one like James, for very long without toppling over.

Isabella's reaction was imminent, her eyes glaring as if he'd kicked the old man instead of helping him to remain on his feet. "I can manage," she hissed, barely keeping her voice civil as she maneuvered the old man out of the reach of Edward's helping hands.

"My sweet Isabella is very protective of me," James chuckled, obviously pleased with his niece's possessive reaction as he smiled at her. "Though I fear it sometimes makes her a bit more catty than is suitable for a lady." For a moment the old man's eyes chilled as he continued to look at his young companion, Isabella visibly balking under his displeasure as her mentor's silent threat hit home.

"I never meant to step on anyone's toes," she spoke, her voice faltering slightly and her eyes shifting nervously from James to Edward. "I'm very sorry if I caused offense."

For a moment Edward was sorely tempted to let her squirm a little longer but then all of Carmen's painstaking lessons at gentlemanly behavior kicked in. "It's nothing," he spoke, shaking it all off like a minor issue. "I'm not the least bit offended." His glare, however, told her otherwise.

Carlisle cringed, knowing an uncomfortable and possibly volatile situation when he saw one and deciding to step in before things could spiral out of control. "Well, I think youngsters today could make an example out of the two of you for knowing the right way to spend your Sunday morning," he spoke, trying to move the conversation back into safer waters.

"Aye!" James smiled, eager to prick through whatever tension might be at play between the young doctor and his ward. "What is a little time lost when your eternal soul is at stake?"

"My sentiments exactly!" Carlisle beamed back. "It's such a shame my kids don't seem to share that opinion, though. And speaking of kids…" He let his voice trail off as he stared into the distance, noting the rest of the family standing by the car, looking more impatient by the second. "I fear we must leave you. My daughter is not one for waiting, I'm afraid, and I think we've tested her patience for long enough."

"Fair Rosalie," James hummed, his eyes all approval as he let them linger on Carlisle's daughter a little too long for comfort. "Yes, you cannot keep her waiting, not for all the pleasant conversation in the world but perhaps young Edward can be spared to join us for brunch?"

Edward felt conflicted as all eyes were suddenly on him; two pairs looking expectantly, one defiantly hostile. Part of him cringed at the prospect of having to spend another minute in Isabella Harrison's company, let alone for the duration of Sunday brunch. The other part, however, knew taking this invitation would put him a shoe in for winning his patients' trust.

"I..er…I'd love to but I don't know about getting back home," he stammered, desperately thinking of a way out which would leave both parts and all people involved, satisfied.

"Isabella will take you back in the car, won't you my dear?" James immediately answered.

"Of course." Isabella looked like she'd just swallowed a lemon, though she tried to hide her displeasure with a sweet and utterly fake smile.

"There." Carlisle looked as if Christmas had come early that year. "I'm sure Edward will be thrilled to come, won't you, Edward?" His words weren't so much a question as a challenge, something Edward was well aware of.

"Y-yes." Edward swallowed, feeling both the weights of expectation, opportunity and hostility press him down. "I'd be honored."

"There!" Carlisle smiled like the Cheshire Cat as he took a step backwards, towards his family. "All is arranged then."

"Follow us, my dear boy," James grinned as he took off, his pace easy to keep up with as he shuffled towards the beautifully maintained old-timer Edward had seen parked in the Harrison's driveway. "I know it's a bit unusual," the old man went on as they slowly got closer and closer to the car, "but with my legs not being as cooperative as they used to be, there's only one person I trust behind the wheel of my pride and joy."

Isabella smiled sweetly as she jiggled the car keys, making sure Edward knew who that person was. "Shall we go?"

"Of course," her uncle beamed back, his body stiff and awkward as he scrambled into the passenger seat with Isabella standing by, her body poised to take over the minute the old man's strength would falter.

They were a well-oiled machine together, Edward thought, watching how Isabella made sure to keep her distance while she watched him like a hawk. All in the business of making the old man believe he still had the power to do everything himself.

"Are you coming?" He looked up to see Isabella glaring at him with renewed distaste, the passenger door firmly shut as the man responsible for all the tension in the air sat and waited for them to join him. "We don't have all day."

At her demand he closed the distance remaining between him and the rear door but before he opened it, he looked up one more time, catching her gaze and holding it as he spoke determinedly. "What is it about me that pisses you off so much?"

She shrugged, her eyes flittering as they looked anywhere but at him. "I don't know."

"Carlisle wants me to step in as your uncle's primary physician," he went on, trying not to feel too pissed off about her meaningless reply, "which means that you and I will be spending some time together whether we want to or not."

She snorted sarcastically, that glint of evil that had been so persistently present in all their dealings together making its reappearance again as she muttered, "I guess you're right about that."

"So would it kill you to at least try and be civil?" Edward finally asked. It wasn't like he held much hope for improvement of her behavior but at least he could try. "It would make this whole thing easier on both of us, I imagine."

He did manage to conjure a small but very genuine smile from her lips, her gloved hand curling around the door handle as she grinned at him. "I guess it wouldn't kill me," she answered lightly, "but that doesn't mean I particularly like it either."

It wasn't until he had slid onto the smooth, tan leather of the backseat and the rumble of the car pulled him out of his baffled state of mind, that he realized how different her voice had sounded on those last few words. Gone had been the almost regal, New England refinery she usually employed, leaving instead a distinctly blue collar choice of words he was sure her uncle would disapprove of and even a small hint of southern lilt to it.

It brought to mind Rosalie's words about Isabella not being who she claimed to be, though he guessed that with her being a cousin, she could have just been brought up somewhere far away from her uncle and all his uppity ways. It made him want to ask her - get to know her better - even though he knew she'd probably shoot him down as soon as his questions were out in the open.

It was only then that the pristine interior of the car brought back its classic, slightly familiar exterior. "Is this a-"

"Nineteen fifty-six Rolls Royce Silver Cloud? Yes, it is," James interrupted him, his voice proud as he ran his bony hand over the smooth and spotless upholstery. "My parents used to have one just like this when I was young. It took me years to track this one down and have it brought back to its former glory."

Edward nodded, adding the precious bit of information to what he already knew about the man. "I can see why you're so reluctant to allow anyone behind the wheel now."

"Indeed!" James nodded vehemently. "I believe only Isabella knows how to operate this car properly." He patted her hand over the gearshift like she was a child as Isabella deftly steered the car through the crowded parking lot. "But then again, she has had lots of practice with it."

James seemed to fall into his own thoughts from that moment, the roar of the engine and the movement of the tires beneath them lulling him into that state between sleeping and waking which was the only sort of rest his disease allowed him to have.

Isabella, always the first to think bad of him, shot him a stern look through the rearview mirror, silently warning Edward not to do anything to disturb the old man in his slumber.

Knowing the patient couldn't see his reaction, Edward merely rolled his eyes at her. _As if he would ever do anything to harm his patient! He's a doctor and damned good at his job, too. No amount of drugs or suspension had made a change in that. If there's anyone who knows what a man like James Harrison needs, it's him, not that scrawny little hellcat sitting next to him. _

The drive over to the Harrison's house in the woods passed in uncomfortable silence, the old man continuing to doze off as Isabella drove and Edward started to regret his decision more and more the closer they got to the mansion.

It wasn't until the engine was cut that James shocked back out of his almost trance-like state, his usual smile and complaisance immediately returning full force as he got out of the car and shuffled into the house, Isabella and Edward following at a respectable distance as he took his seat at the dining table while Isabella laid out an opulent brunch.

James chuckled as he watched Edward's eyes grow with every intricate dish the young woman placed on the table. "I know it seems a little much but I do appreciate upholding my family's tradition of a festive Sunday brunch, even though it's just the two of us nowadays." He waited for Edward to nod before he went on, his long fingers shaking slightly as they brushed a fold out of the tablecloth. "Besides, with a chef as skilled as my Isabella, it would be a shame to let her talents go to waste."

Isabella smiled, seemingly uncomfortable under her uncle's praise, as she folded her hands in prayer, waiting for her uncle to say grace before serving out a few of the dishes. A move that, once again, was meant to prevent her uncle's defects from becoming too apparent.

As they ate, most conversation came to a halt, other than the usual praise for the food; praise which Edward couldn't deny, was very well deserved. _God, it's been a long time since he's tasted food like this. If ever at all. _

"Tell me about life in Chicago." James' eyes became glassy as they stared past Edward into the forest, his shaky hands placing his cutlery down as he chewed on his final bite of vegetable terrine. "It seems like ages since I've been there."

"I don't think much has changed," Edward shrugged, not quite sure what the old man expected of him.

"No, I imagine it didn't," his patient replied with a small smile. "Still, sometimes I wish…"

"It wouldn't be good for you," Isabella spoke, her voice almost shockingly soft and tender.

"You are right, my dear, as you always are." James' smile turned slightly bitter as he continued to stare wistfully out of the window. "Besides, the people I know are better off remembering me as I was, not as I have become."

Edward could only sympathize. Over the days he'd done as much research on FFI as his job allowed him and one of the things he'd found during his quest for information about the disease was that patients stricken by it aged rapidly; their skin and body becoming gaunt, sallow and wrinkled as all of its resources were quickly used up. With no REM-sleep to restore what had been used during the day, the patient continued to overuse himself every single day until finally the body gave up. It was not a pretty sight for those who went through it, let alone those who stood by the sideline knowing there was nothing they could do about it.

"I imagine that with you being one of the illustrious Masen-clan, you will have experienced the ins and outs of all the cultural seasons I've missed," James spoke longingly. "Pray tell me, what is new at the Lyric these days?"

"I believe they are staging _Die Zauberflöte_ at the moment." Edward frowned, trying to remember it right.

"Ah, yes." Lights danced in James' eyes as they got that faraway look again. "_The Magic Flute_. Splendid work, though I guess when you've seen La Damrau perform it live on stage, any other coloratura soprano pales in comparison."

Edward nodded, remembering the name of one of the most acclaimed performers of the role from his mother's passionate stories. "Though every generation has its own diva's, I suppose."

"You know of that performance?" His patient seemed surprised, his eyes finally drawn from the window to scrutinize the young man sitting across from him.

"I have heard of it," Edward answered truthfully. "My mother, who is an ardent opera-lover, caught her performance at the Met-"

"In 2007," James nodded enthusiastically. "One of the most profound moments I've ever experienced in theatre. I saw her twice that year. Once as Pamina, and the other as the Queen of the Night."

"My mother would probably share that opinion." Edward smiled, remembering the hours he and his mother used to spend discussing art and – most notably – music. "I believe I never disappointed her as much as the day I proclaimed my preference for other types of music."

"Blasphemy!" James gasped, his easy amusement earning Edward a strange look from Isabella. "Though I would have to admit that she did better than I could ever achieve since you at least share some of her good tastes. My children could never be bothered to even listen to a classical performance for long enough to let it sink in, let alone muster the patience to master an instrument." He smiled wryly, his eyes once again fixed on the tree line. "Do you play?"

"I used to, but I'm afraid that a career in medicine doesn't mesh well with musical proficiency." Edward sighed. "It has been a long time since I've played." He conveniently left out that it hadn't been so much his schedule as the fact that neither rehab nor his addiction to Vicodin had been very conductive to his musical abilities.

"Could you be persuaded upon to play a few tunes for us? It has been too long since I've been as fortunate as to listen to live music and I'm afraid that, even though some of the performances I have on record are sublime, no recorded music can ever come close to the real thing."

"Perhaps." Even though Edward didn't really feel like playing, there was no denying the glint of hope on the old man's face. "I am afraid poor Isabella might be very bored with our musical talk, though."

"Nonsense!" James waved Edward's objections away even before his niece could say something. From his almost annoyed gesture, Edward got the notion that the old man wasn't used to much opposition around the house. "I am sure Isabella would like it as well as I do and, even if she doesn't, she knows better than to complain."

Isabella blushed deeply under her uncle's pre-emptive rebuke, her fingers clasped so tightly even Edward could see her skin go white. "Of course I look forward to hearing Dr. Masen play, even though I do not share your knowledge of music."

"Well then," James already started to shift impatiently in the seat, "how about you start clearing the table so that we can get ready."

"I will help you." Edward was on his feet before anyone could say a word to dissuade him, his hands already grabbing the heaviest of the dishes as Isabella started to assemble the plates and cutlery to bring it into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped my boundaries," he apologized as the kitchen door closed behind them, "but I think your uncle might need a few minutes to himself to rest."

Isabella nodded as she turned on the tap and waited for the water to warm up. "I thank you," she muttered, her eyes trained to the sink as she rinsed the dirty plates. Her voice was so low, especially with the water running, that for a moment, Edward wasn't quite sure if he heard her correctly.

Edward's brows furrowed, shock and confusion battling for dominance in his mind as he stared at her. "What for?"

"It's been too long since I've seen him like this…so happy and relaxed." Her eyes flashed to his for a hint of a second, a small smile on her lips as she conveyed her thanks. In that moment he could see the woman behind the harsh exterior; a woman who cared deeply but with a fear and almost frenetic persistence it made him wonder what else was at play to have made her like that.

But then the moment was gone again, her eyes brusquely moving back to her task at hand, her shoulders squaring as he could almost tangibly feel the shutters come back up.

Her renewed distance made him feel an urgent sense of disappointment, though he wasn't sure why or even where it came from. "Do you need me for anything else?" he asked, determined not to dwell on his confusion any more than he'd done during his grief for the past few years.

"Could you bring the tray into the living room?" Isabella asked, her eyes still carefully averted. "I'll follow with the tea."

Edward did as he was told, taking a few sips of the tea Isabella served out before taking his spot at the grand piano, James' impatience becoming almost too much to bear.

"I cannot tell you how good it is to finally see someone use that fine instrument again," James sighed as Isabella sat him on the sofa close to the piano before taking a seat next to him. "It has sat idle for far too long."

"Perhaps Dr. Masen could teach me how to play?" Isabella offered, smiling quite nervously as she shifted on the sofa. Edward looked up in surprise, wondering if she wanted to learn how to play just because she couldn't stand the thought of him being able to do something for her uncle that she could not, as he feared, or because she wanted to spend more time with him, as he hoped. "I fear it might hurt your ears at first but, perhaps in time…"

"Yes, maybe," James nodded dismissively as she let her voice trail off. "But for now I am very impatient to hear what our young guest is capable of."

Isabella blushed but remained silent, probably knowing that no more input from her was appreciated.

"I hope I will live up to your expectations," Edward smiled, feeling rather nervous all of a sudden. "I must warn you once more that it has been months since I last sat down to play, even longer since I've played a classical composition."

He caught James' impatient nod, two pairs of eyes fixed on the piano as they waited for him to start playing; one with eager anticipation the other with a curious fascination. Edward wasn't quite sure which of the two unnerved him most.

Still, there was something very homey about the scene he had become a part of, something he wasn't even sure he had ever had in his own family; that ease of a lazy Sunday afternoon, spent with family.

He knew in terms of progress he had probably come leaps and bounds that day, his discussions with the patient letting him deeper and deeper into the old man's trust as even Isabella's hostility started to slowly thaw under his continued presence in her life. As good as that felt, though, it also meant that a whole lot of strange feelings he had vowed to suppress and forget, were now bubbling to the surface again, threatening to take over.

Carlisle would be proud if he could see him now. Edward knew that but, even though he realized he needed Carlisle's pride to win him more freedom and responsibility at the hospital, in that moment he couldn't care less about it.

As he sat down at the piano, cracking his fingers for extra dexterity, the thing that struck him as most odd about the situation he found himself in wasn't the fact that he was playing the piano during Sunday brunch with an advance case of FFI; a sentence so implausible that he knew his colleagues back at home would have trouble believing it.

No, it was how _normal_ it all felt.

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_**Thoughts? **_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 10. **

_**The son.**_

Edward had a hard time falling asleep that night, the succession of events throughout the day leaving his mind scrambling to catch up. After all, it had been quite a day…

When he'd sat down behind that piano, there wasn't a thought in his mind about how amazing it was to play again. Mostly Edward had been nervous as hell he was going to make an ass out of himself in his eagerness to please the old man, if only to thank him for a lovely brunch and take another step towards earning his trust and, thereby, the right to treat him.

However, the moment Edward's fingers first pressed against the cold, hard keys of the instrument, a surge of excitement pulsed through him. His eyes closed almost instinctively as he let his mind drift away on the lingering notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

His fingers didn't move with the same effortlessness they used to when he still played daily but, even in spite of their stiffness, they still remembered every single note and played them all without a moment's hesitation.

It was exhilarating; the music pouring from him freely, and without restraint, in a way which brought him the same kick that a long run in the fresh air but, at the same time, felt completely different. He was swept away on the staccato notes of the _allegramente_ movements of the piece before falling into the more languid pace as it faded into _lento. _His body rising and falling in time with the tempo as his fingers moved almost as if they were a separate entity, but yet, in complete harmony with his soul.

He had never realized how much he'd missed it.

When the final note faded in the air, playing wasn't so much about pleasing his audience anymore. Edward would have been lying if the look of pure jubilation on his patients' face and the look of quiet amazement in his companions' eyes didn't give him a huge sense of achievement. It had become about retrieving a piece of himself he'd thought had been lost forever; about becoming _whole_ again, one tiny bit at a time.

James had been lost for words, his eyes shining as his body simply started to give out after all the impulses his worn and struggling mind had been battling to digest. Edward's visit ended soon after. With his patient clearly being at the end of his strength and Edward needing to prepare for his first full shift the next day, he asked Isabella to bring him back home, a request that met with virtually no opposition at all.

As glad as Isabella appeared to be to see the back of the man she'd so reluctantly welcomed into her home, she didn't become any more talkative on the drive back to Forks. Since there was no apparent reason for their silence like there had been on their drive up, the silence that hung between them was filled with tension and awkwardness, making both Edward and herself breathe a sigh of relief when the Cullens' house came into view.

"I guess I'll see you next time?" Edward offered as he opened the passenger's door.

Isabella nodded noncommittally, pushing her lips into a small, forced smile. It was only when the door was almost shut behind him that she turned towards him and spoke. "Until next time."

Before Edward had the time to process her words and what they might have meant, other than the obvious, she'd already shut the door and sped off, the tires squeaking as she pulled out on the street like her life depended on it.

Edward scratched the back of his head as he watched her go, wondering, as he'd done so often those days, what it was about the woman who had managed to confuse him more and more with every encounter they had.

Hours later in his bed, he still didn't have the answer to his question but, one thing he _did_ know was, resolutions or not, Isabella Harrison had reclaimed the prominent position she'd held in his thoughts and from the looks of it, it didn't seem like she'd give it up any time soon.

_Damn that woman!_ Edward turned, the sheets of his bed twisting around his body as he tried to fall asleep, though deep down, he knew he was far too wound up to ever get some rest.

It was over an hour later that he was finally ready to admit defeat, his muscles aching from the pent up tension and frustration as he sat up and fumbled for the remote. The soothing tones of Miles Davis drifting from the sound system a few moments later as he switched on the light, figuring he might as well do some reading as long as sleep eluded him.

He'd read most of Aro Volturi's books in rehab, back when he didn't know a damn thing about the man behind the brilliant words and the terrible disease he was suffering from. Back then, they had just been words on paper, noting more.

He frowned, turning the hardcover over in his hands as if somehow the words could take on a deeper meaning by doing it. But they didn't. No matter how long he stared at them, the letters still spelled the same:

**Deep Water**

**By **

**Aro Volturi**

Over the past couple of days he'd read everything about FFI he could get his hands on but, even though he now knew everything he had needed to know about the pathology of the disease, he still hadn't come a damn inch closer to understanding how the old man was able to consistently dance around the inevitable. _Death_.

He had a hunch that the way the guy lived had a lot to do with it; far away from the world with little to nothing to excite him or cause his brain to have to deal with new impulses. The less his mind would have to work, the less his lack of REM-sleep would become a problem. James Harrison would die eventually – no living human being could go without sleep indefinitely – but it might be able to prolong the inevitable.

Still, his professional assumptions brought him no closer to knowing _how_ the man had done it; how he had managed to learn so much about the disease which might strike him one day that he was able to cheat it out of its deadly velocity. It was where the books came in. _Maybe his words hold the key. _

He sighed, rubbing his eyes before opening the book, the cover creaking as he stretched its spine. It was on the title page of the book that the first enigma surrounding Aro Volturi started to unfold.

_To my wife and children._

_Without their support and dedication, I would be nothing._

From what he'd read about the man on Wikipedia and his publisher's website, he knew James was married and had been for forty years; his wife and children always loyally by his side whenever the _pater familias_ picked up another award or accolade. But where were they now? Why had the man who claimed to be nothing without his wife and two children moved all the way to the other side of the country at a time when he would probably have needed them most, to put himself at the mercy of a young, unfamiliar relative? Why not stick to what – or _who_ – he knew?

So now, as a final resort, he had ordered the entire catalog of novels written by James Harrison, hoping there might be something amongst the many pages of literature to help him get a better grasp of his patient. But even though there was a stack of crisp, new books sitting next to him on the bedside table he had decided to start with the one he'd already read. The _first_ one was written long before the disease had started to affect the writer.

He yawned, pulling the sheets further up to stave off the cold as he turned the pages, his interest soon captured by the riveting crime story unfolding in his hands, causing the recon-mission to be pushed to the background until finally his eyes started to droop and he had to put the book away, none the wiser about the man behind the story. What he had found out, though, was that for all his eccentricities, James Harrison was a writer not at all without talent. _He is a genius_.

The house was still completely quiet the next morning when Edward left for his first full shift at the hospital, his sleep deprived brain already running a mile a minute as he moved through the house on tiptoe in order to not wake anyone up before they had to. _He has to somehow find out more about James Harrison. He needs to know how his mind works if he wants to unlock this case. But how? How will he find out?_

The hospital, too, was still cloaked in the dead silence of night, the people of Forks choosing to spend their nights in bed as opposed to some of their counterparts in Chicago who liked to roam the streets, often in search of the untoward. Apart from the odd stroke, heart attack or drunk driving incident happening overnight, the doctor working the night shift regularly got a reasonably good night's sleep at Forks General, which was something Edward couldn't really imagine.

"Good, you're here," Maggie grumbled over a cup of coffee as she scribbled some notes onto a chart. "Go get changed while I see if I can drum up the rest of the staff for morning rounds."

There weren't many patients to discuss; a few in the ICU recovering from various surgeries, one waiting to be transferred to Port Angeles and a handful of others on the ward waiting to be discharged.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Maggie asked, her voice stern and her eyes taxing as she stared him down. They were in the doctor's lounge; Edward getting a few things he'd forgotten from his locker before rounds as doctor Molina got ready to go home now that her shift had ended.

Edward shrugged, trying not to feel indignant at the assumption that he, a celebrated big city neurosurgeon, couldn't manage amongst the appendectomies and debridement cases of the world. "I think I'll manage."

"Well, if you find yourself having any sort of trouble…Dr. Banner is right upstairs if you need him and I imagine Dr. Cullen hasn't become so entranced in his administrative work that he's forgotten what a scalpel looks like," she pressed, her eyes narrowing in warning as she continued to stare him down.

"I'll manage," Edward repeated, gnashing his teeth to keep himself from saying something he might later on regret.

"Our budget is stretched enough as it is," she droned on. "We don't want any malpractice suits because our new hotshot big city doctor couldn't hack it in the real world."

"I didn't do so bad last week, did I?" he snapped, slamming the door of his locker shut with a loud bang.

"You managed to complete a few half-decent stitches on a knocked out drunk," she snorted. "I'd hardly call that surgery worthy of a mention in the New England Journal of Medicine!"

"Hardly," Edward replied, squaring his shoulders as he met her gaze, "but what happened to giving me the benefit of the doubt?"

"I am, believe it or not." Her lips pulled into a wry smile as she arched her brow. "If it had been up to me, you'd never have come within a mile of this hospital unless you were bleeding, let alone operating virtually unsupervised. Then again, I guess that's what happens when family politics come into sway…" And with that she slammed her locker shut and tore off, leaving a fuming Edward behind.

He wasn't mad because of the harshness of his colleagues words, though. No, he was fuming because they were right and because there was no way to defend himself from her allegations. Except, of course, for the obvious one: work like a maniac to prove her wrong. _It's the story of his life, really; always laboring to fight against other people's assumptions._

He closed his eyes, quietly battling his body's first knee-jerk reaction to situations like those; a fix. Giving in now would mean all of his critics were right. Besides, he didn't want it anymore. For _him_, not just for his reputation or family name. It was killing him.

"What happened to you?" Rachel was smiling as he joined her at the ER nurses' station. "You look like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I don't know where to start," he muttered, picking up a chart. "Though I guess being chewed out by one of my bosses didn't really help."

"Yeah." Rachel grimaced, her hand wrapping around his arm in compassion. "I heard she was in one of her moods again."

"One of her moods?" Edward grumbled, scanning the pages for information about the patient he was about to meet.

"It happens sometimes when she's working the graveyard shift, especially if someone wakes her up for nothing." As she paused, Edward tried to remember if something like that had come up during rounds. "She doesn't handle the whole lack-of-sleep thing so well, I think."

"Who does?" Edward moped, feeling not so cheerful and bright himself either. "A little advance warning would have been nice, though."

Rachel snorted, arching her brow. "We're not here to hold your hand, Dr. Masen." The mocking emphasis on the word 'doctor' made Edward smirk, though his bad mood lifted slightly as she moved in a little closer, her voice low enough to be heard only by the two of them. "So, are we still on for tonight?"

"Of course," he nodded, "unless you're bailing on me?"

Rachel giggled, shaking her head as if she'd never heard something quite as preposterous. "Why on earth would I do such a silly thing?"

"I don't know," Edward shrugged wishing he'd remembered how to flirt. It had been an awful long time since he'd last played that particular game and with Tanya it had always been different because they'd been friends first and lovers only after. "I've made reservations at a place in Port Angeles."

"I can't wait," she smiled, looking around her to see if anyone was watching before, leaning into him, her side warming his. "I've gotta go, though. Pick me up at my place at seven?"

Edward nodded, knowing he had to get to work himself if he wanted to start proving himself. "See you then."

"You'll see me all day!" Rachel snickered. "But we'll talk more then."

As he watched her scamper off, he would have been lying if he didn't admit that his eyes were firmly trained somewhere to the middle of her body, where one of her best assets swayed from side to side as she headed over to their first patient. Hell, if the chart tray was to be believed, it was their _only_ patient since the ER seemed to be mercifully desolate so early in the morning.

Though _mercifully_ was a relative notion, seeing as it meant that Edward was probably going to be bored stiff for a substantial part of his shift.

As the hours went on, things slowly started to pick up; waterlogged roads and seasonal outbreaks of the flu meaning that Edward had little time on his hands to be bored, though enough to never feel the overwhelming pressure of a crisis situation like he had so many times back at home in Chicago.

That was until a little after six that night, right before the end of his shift, when suddenly the radio went berserk; first responders shouting for backup and ETAs as the hospital staff looked at each other and wondered what the hell was going on.

It was some time before the magnitude of what was going on only a few miles from where he stood started to resonate, his eyes widening as he listened as somewhere close the blare of sirens swelled. _Shit._

"Get Banner and Cullen, and call in everyone else we have on staff," Edward ordered, knowing that whatever was coming at them, it was going to be big. "_Now_."

"Do you want to engage the emergency protocol?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

Edward nodded. "Get on the phone with Port Angeles and Seattle and tell them to standby and get the damn MEDEVAC over here because I'm almost sure we're going to need it."

Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins as he made sure everything was ready, setting up a triage unit by the ambulance bay as doctors and nurses around him bustled to get everything prepared before their first patients would arrive.

It was all too soon that the distant sounds of sirens started to draw closer again, the doors barging open as a gurney was wheeled in, two EMTs marching by its side.

"Status?" Edward yelled, running after them as he tied the surgical gown behind his back.

"Maria Young, age 18," the EMT started to rattle off the patient's name and age followed by her vital stats and a short explanation of how she ended up strapped to a gurney on her Monday afternoon.

"What the hell happened?" Edward wondered, absorbing all the information as it was being presented around him.

"Bust up between the tree-huggers and some of the guys from Kings'" the EMT answered. "We've had those before but never like this. They broke into the lumber yard and tried to sabotage the mill when something happened to bring a huge stack of logs down on them."

"They tried to fucking kill us!" the girl screeched, her dark, black eyes blazing fire. "I want to see the police!"

"All in due time," Edward soothed, checking the girl's pupils and reflexes, which thankfully seemed to be okay. "Did you lose consciousness at any time? Or get hit on the head?"

The girl shook her head, her voice bitter when she answered his question. "I almost got sawed in half, though."

"We found her lying underneath a couple of logs but nothing crushing her too badly," the EMT chimed in, making sure he had all of his equipment back before heading out. "There are still some of them out there. We're having an awful hard time getting them loose. This one even threw herself back into the fray when we finally managed to free her. It's where she got the black eye."

"Can you blame us?" the raven-haired patient – Maria – snapped. "They are butchering our forests where we stand! Something has to be done before this whole peninsula goes to shit."

"Please hold still," Edward interfered, sending a poignant look in the direction of the EMT who looked like he was about to come back with a biting remark of his own. "I need to assess your cuts and bruises."

He started with the ones in her face first, the skin around her eyes already swelling up to an impressive bruise. "You're in luck." She winced, her eyes glaring daggers at him as he went on. "There doesn't seem to be an orbital fracture."

"Well, whoop-di-doo," she huffed, sucking in a sharp breath when Edward moved on to the cut right above her eye.

"This one will need stitches," he mused, pointing out a few more of the deeper cuts as the nurses cut open the patient's jeans to reveal what looked like a relatively clean fibular fracture. "And a leg x-ray."

The nurse nodded as she walked over to the phone and called radiology. "When can she be sent up?"

"Now, if they're ready for us," Edward answered, never taking his eyes off his patient as he went through the final stages of the checklist that had been ingrained into his mind since his internship. "I'm done here."

He kept his ear trained to the nurse for long enough to hear her confirm the patient's imminent transfer to radiology before he turned back towards her. "It looks like you broke your leg but we need to take an x-ray just to be sure. Apart from that, you're going to need stitches in your temple and arm to repair the cuts. It doesn't look like you'll need surgery, though."

She sighed, the fight slowly leaving her as the adrenaline wore off. "And Jasper?"

"Jasper?" Edward frowned, his breath hitching as he thought about the boy he knew. "Jasper _Cullen_?"

She nodded. "He was right beside me when it happened but I think he got the brunt of it. I couldn't even see him underneath all those trees."

"Shit!" Edward cussed, barking orders at the nurse nearest to him to take care of the patient before he ran out of the OR, almost bumping into Rachel on his way to the admissions desk. "Rach, have you seen Jasper? According to my patient he was right there with her."

"They're bringing him in right now." Rachel's mouth was pressed into a hard line as another ambulance drew up in front of the bay. She'd learned long ago that when times got tough, crying would do her no good. She'd have plenty of time for that later, when she'd stop to think about the people she'd seen brought into the ER. People she'd known for most of her life. "From what I've heard, it's pretty bad."

Just then the doors banged open again, a gurney speeding by with an unconscious and bleeding Jasper on top of it. _Fuck, it looked bad._

"Has Carlisle been called?" He was already in motion when he saw Rachel nod, the buzz of a hospital in a crisis situation thumping through his system as he followed behind the stretcher. "Get him in here, _stat_. And call my sister."

"Oh, no you don't!" Maggie Molina's stern look stopped him in the doorway. "Go find another patient who isn't next of kin or keep your brother-in-law company…but you're not going anywhere near this patient, ya got me?"

Edward sighed, but nodded. He knew the rules and though Jasper may not have been genetically related to him, he was his sisters' stepson. Being involved on his case would have been out of the question even if his record had been clean.

"Any news?" Carlisle looked like he was fresh out of an OR himself, his eyes wide with fear as he came to a stop in front of Edward. "Is he in there?"

"Maggie's working on him right now," Edward answered, his muscles finally remembering how to work again as he slowly pushed Carlisle away from the door. "Come on, let her do her work." Looking back over his shoulder he caught a small smile from Maggie before her eyes were focused on the patient again, her voice yelling orders over the sound of machines as she set to work.

Carlisle didn't put up much of a fight, though Edward could feel how much it was costing him. Like Edward, he knew that no doctor liked to operate under the stress of family members watching her every move. Not that it made it easier for Carlisle to walk away knowing his son was in there. "How did he present?"

"I only got a brief look at him but, from what I saw, it looked like he was in a pretty bad shape," Edward muttered. "He looked unconscious and had cranial bleeding."

"Oh, God!" Carlisle leaned back against the wall, his eyes closing as his shoulders slumped. "I should've stopped him. I should have known what he was up to..."

Edward knew all too well how Carlisle must have been feeling at that moment; what it felt like to have your child lying on an operating table, knowing the outcome may be…But Carlisle still had hope.

And at least Edward could help him by reminding him of that. "I'm sure he'll pull through," he offered. "Most of the kids I've seen coming through this ER looked way worse than they actually were."

"I know, it's just…"Carlisle shook his head. "I should have seen this coming from a mile away. Jasper has always been so passionate about protecting the forest and-"

"Nobody knew they were going to do something this stupid," a new voice chimed in. A woman Edward faintly recognized joined them, silently offering Carlisle a cup of coffee. "Don't beat yourself up about it, doc. Save your anger for that foolish boy of yours."

"She's right," Edward nodded. "If you knew you would have stopped him and the only thing that would have achieved was that he'd have tried to think of some other way to hide his intentions."

"Exactly," the woman nodded, turning to Edward. "I'm Emily Uley, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything. I didn't know Carlisle wasn't alone."

_Emily Uley, from the bar_. Edward smiled as he remembered her. "You're Maria Young's sister, aren't you?"

She nodded. "And I know I'm going to give her hell for pulling a stunt like this. What the hell were they thinking?"

"I don't know," Carlisle sighed, rubbing his face, "But I know the Kings probably won't let them get off with just a slap on the wrist. Not when they were trespassing on their property."

Emily nodded. "We should probably get the rest of the parents together, huh?"

Edward, feeling that they'd rather do so without him hovering on the sidelines, excused himself; the sudden influx of patients – both protesters and lumbermen – giving him more than enough to keep him busy. For the next hour, his body worked at a lightning speed, instinct taking over as he treated one patient after another, only stopping to change gowns and gloves before diving into his next patient, his body feeding off the mayhem that surrounded him.

It was only when the final critical patient was sent upstairs for further treatment that he stopped to breathe and took a good look around him, his body crashing from the adrenaline rush which had kept it going throughout the emergency situation as he stood panting, surveying what looked more like a battle scene than an organized ER.

"I guess we'll have to take a rain check, don't we?" Edward looked up to find Rachel standing next to the nurse's desk. "It's already ten-thirty and you look like you're going to be busy for a while…and so am I."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm sorry." He wasn't really, though a relaxed night on the town with a pretty girl would have been infinitely better than spending his evening stitching up environmentalists and lumberjacks, he was still feeling awfully conflicted about the whole dating thing. Or was it just the _girl_ he was dating?

She shrugged. "It happens." He could hear her retreating footsteps as he set back to work, picking up the chart of one of the 'walking wounded'; the patients that didn't need immediate care and had been waiting around until those that did had been treated.

"Mr. McCarty?" He looked up, the name immediately registering even in spite of his tiredness. "Emmett's dad?"

The man nodded, looking as worn out as Edward felt. "I take it you've met my boy?" He chuckled when Edward nodded, wincing slightly as the movement disturbed what looked like a fractured collar bone. "I have to say, I'm glad none of my kids were up there tonight, though I know it's nothing but luck."

"You've got another son working at the mill, don't you?" Edward's brows furrowed as he tried to remember what Emmett had told him while assessing the man's injuries.

"Aye," David McCarty nodded. "And one who's in with those tree-huggers. I never thought I'd say this, but for once I'm glad my mother-in-law is visiting." He grinned, his muscles tensing as Edward examined some of the bruises he'd sustained. "Never much cared for that old crow but, if her being around keeps the young'uns safely indoors, she's welcome to spend as much time here as she wants."

Edward chuckled, sitting back now that he knew the man was in no immediate danger. Knowing Radiology would still be backed up, he had one of the nurses set him up a suture kit first, treating some of the deeper cuts before his patient could be sent up for a shoulder x-ray. "Can you tell me what happened?"

David nodded. "I don't know the full story since it happened when I was on the other side of the yard, but I know those kids must have gotten in somehow. They got it into their heads that if they'd tinker with the stacks the whole mill would come to a standstill. They were right, too, though I fail to see how that would have saved their precious trees." He tried to shrug but, again, winced when his broken bones protested. "I mean, it might've slowed us down but we would have cut down those trees anyway."

"I think it's more about making a statement," Edward offered.

"Well, they got that done, for sure." David smiled wryly as he took the painkillers a nurse was offering them. "Too bad they almost got themselves killed in the progress, huh?"

As Edward stitched, David went on explaining what happened, from the stack of logs accidentally tumbling down on the kids and the pandemonium that had ensued. As he understood, it was a miracle no one had gotten killed, most of the logs that came down on the kids weighing two-thousand pounds or more.

It had taken a whole of the Forks Police and a team of firemen to get them loose, with some of the lumbermen ending up in need of medical attention themselves as they tried to pull the kids from the stack, but got buried as the logs shifted or splinters came loose.

Edward didn't believe the Forks General Hospital ER had been that full in a long time, all of the doctors and nurses having been called in to help as the situation between the kids and the woodsmen continued to be strained, even with the kids' parents pouring in.

It wasn't until around eleven that he finally got an update on Jasper, Carlisle coming down from the top floor where they'd taken his son, to announce that Jasper had cracked a few ribs and sustained a severe concussion amongst the cuts and bruises that seemed to be the new norm among the place, but that apart from that, he was going to be fine.

There was a moment, small and fleeting, but it was still there, in which Edward envied the man like never before; the knowledge that Carlisle's son would live where his little girl had not, cutting through his heart like a razor blade. For a moment it felt like he was losing her all over again, the pain it caused making him take off in a sprint outside, away from the dangers of the hospital pharmacy.

He breathed, closing his eyes as he tried to fight down the urge to fall back into his old ways, reminding himself that he should be relieved Jasper was going to pull through without any lasting damage. That was good news. Great news! It was what he should be focusing on.

It was well past midnight before he finally left the hospital, bone weary and with hands hurting from painstakingly putting in one stitch after another. But he had made it.

He smiled, leaning his head against the headrest as the soft purr of Billie Holiday singing about summertime and easy living slowly soothed his aching bones. He'd done it. He'd faced his first crisis situation since being allowed to practice medicine again and he'd made it through without messing up or giving into his craving of a shot of Vicodin. He was proud of himself, for the first time in God knew how long.

In fact, the buzz he felt as the car rolled to a stop in front of the Cullens' home was so much better than any pill could ever make him feel. He'd been a fool to ever risk it.

He spent a few minutes savoring the feeling; the sense of being able to take on the world, before he finally got out of the car, knowing that if he didn't get his ass to bed any time soon, his shift the next day would be even harder than the one that lay behind him.

When he opened the front door, though, he wished he'd remained in his car where the music was beautiful and the peace and tranquility a comfort. Because inside, it looked like a warzone. Or at least it sounded like one.

"I can't believe you let this happen!" Rosalie shrieked, her blue eyes wild with rage as she hollered abuse at her stepmother from her high spot on the stairs. "What kind of mother are you?"

"Now listen to me, young lady-" Esme tried, though Edward could immediately tell from the wavering in her voice that was beyond her strength.

"Listen to you?" Rosalie bit back. "And end up in the ER like Jazz? No, thank you very much."

Edward wanted nothing more than to jump in and help his sister, even though he knew that would only hurt Esme's position in the house. His sister looked like she could defend herself, though, her tone biting as she spoke. "Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that, you little-"

But Rosalie was beyond listening, her voice cracking as she interrupted her stepmother yet again. "Royce's father is beside himself with anger and I don't even know if he ever wants to talk to me again after my own brother tried to ruin his fucking life."

At that moment she spotted Edward walking into the house with a look of determination on his eyes. Knowing she was outnumbered and more than likely 'outgunned', she decided to make a hasty retreat but not without one final blow. "Mom would never have let it come to this…I _hate_ you!" And with that she thundered upstairs, her bedroom door slamming shut before Edward could even reach the stairs, his hands balled at his side and his blood boiling with rage.

"You heard that, didn't you?" If Edward had been startled by the broken sound of his sister's voice, when he turned around to face her, his heart broke along with it.

"_Es_…" He sighed, rushing over to her side, his arms wrapping around her small shoulders even before the first tear could drop from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, sis."

"Don't be," she muttered, her nails digging through the thin fabric of his Oxford as she held onto him like a lifeline. "It's not your fault."

"You don't deserve this," he insisted, pulling her closer as she cried. "You deserve so much _better_ than this."

"It hurt so much to see him…to see Jasper lying in that hospital bed," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I know," Edward nodded. He'd known his sister had visited the hospital at some point; his eyes registering her passing by as he was busy treating one of his patients. He knew how much she cared for Jasper and how tough it must have been to see him lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

"I wonder if she's right…if there was something I could have done to stop him," she went on, her grip on him becoming almost painful. "I should have _known_ he was up to something."

"How could you have known?" Edward parried, wishing there was some magic word he could speak to make his sister's pain go away. "It's not like he confided in you where it came to his plans."

"I _know_," she growled in frustration, "but it's just…."

He pushed her back, forcing her to look at him. "Have you spoken to Carlisle?"

Her eyes were sad as she shook her head. "He had enough on his plate and…"

"He's their _father_, Es, you can't let him hide from this; not from Jasper's actions _or_ from Rosalie's reaction," Edward insisted.

"I know, but…he's so busy and I feel…I feel I should be able to do this, but it's just,' she looked up, her eyes watery and distraught. "I just don't know how much more of this I can take."

He shook his head, his heart breaking for her as he held Esme close. Something would have to be done about it soon, before his sister would crumble under the weight resting on her shoulders.

And he wasn't going to let that happen.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 11. **

_**The first step.**_

"Do you need anything else, Doctor Masen?" Through his concentration he recognized Nurse Beckett's voice as she hovered near the edge of the curtained off little room.

Edward shook his head, his concentration fixed on his patient as he worked. "I'm fine for now. I'll let you know when I'm done here."

He smiled, trying to reassure his patient as he heard the nurses' footsteps fade. "We should be done in a few moments."

"Right, doc," the patient, a forty-something man with a hard edge and muscles that betrayed a hard-won living, chuckled nervously, rubbing his clammy forehead with his good hand. "Let's just get this over with."

"You could have spared yourself the trip to the ER if you had this looked after when it happened," Edward admonished him, like it was his duty as a doctor to do. "It looks like an old wound."

"Yeah," the man nodded, "but we're already behind on our orders as it is and with our team down a man or two, we ain't got time to rush to the hospital every time someone scrapes his arm."

"It looks like you did a bit more than that." Edward chuckled disapprovingly as he set to work, draining the infected tissue and cutting away some of the most affected skin to reach what looked like one hell of a splinter. "Besides, you'll be out of the running for a lot longer now than you would have been if you'd have gotten it cleaned and stitched up right away."

The man nodded, though Edward was almost convinced the guy be working his normal shift the next day no matter how sternly his doctor had spoken to him. He had seen it dozens of times in similar cases, whether in Chicago or in Forks: as long as you could work, you tried.

"Nurse Beckett will be back in a few to finish up and take you through the wound care regimen," he went on, sitting up as he discarded his instruments and gloves back into their tray next to the bed. "Make sure the wound stays clean, dry and try to keep it from opening again."

The patient chuckled as his doctor shot him a stern, knowing look. "I'll try, doc, but I can't promise ya anything."

"And if it starts looking red or swollen again, I want you back in here _stat_, before it will become gangrenous or I will have to cut away your whole finger. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Nope." His patient shook his hand, still grinning from ear to ear like he'd just achieved a major victory. "I reckon it would be a lot harder to haul logs with just the one hand."

"I reckon you may be right about that," Edward chuckled, shaking the patient's good hand before ducking through the curtain, almost bumping into his sister in the process.

"Es? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Picking up some things for Jasper." She shrugged, though Edward could see the pain from a few nights ago was still fresh. "And dropping of Carlisle's lunch which he forgot…_again_."

He sighed, remembering how he'd fallen asleep that night on the sofa, his sister's worn out body slumping against his as he continued to hold her even though she was all cried out. He still had the kinks in his back to remind him of it. "Did you talk to him?"

"Tonight," Esme grimaced, obviously not looking forward to it. "Carlisle got Rosalie to look after her brother for the night so he could take me out to dinner." Her smile wasn't the one a wife should be sporting at the prospect of going out on a date with her husband but Edward understood. Romantic as the setting was probably going to be, their conversation would be anything but. They had some important matters to discuss and, after everything he'd seen and heard, Edward had the feeling his sister wasn't going to back down easily. She'd had enough of the kids running rampant. Something had to give.

Esme chuckled, misinterpreting her brothers' silence. "Don't worry, we won't cramp your style."

"How the hell do you know?" Edward scratched the back of his head. _How the hell did she know he and Rachel had decided to move their date back to that night? He only knew since that morning and he hadn't exactly been shouting it from the rooftops._ "And Rosalie? I think I'd rather have Jack the Ripper for a nursemaid than entrust myself to her."

"Rosalie may have her defects but she loves her brother dearly and, with her being grounded, it's not like she has much else to do with her evenings." Esme laughed at the face her brother made when she mentioned the name of her stepdaughter in the same sentence as the word 'love'. "Oh and if you don't want me to find out about your little work dalliances, then don't doodle your plans all over my office notebook."

"Aw, crap!" he groaned, his cheeks blushing a vibrant red as he slapped himself on the forehead.

"Don't worry, Ned," Esme giggled, delighted at seeing her usually so restrained brother so put out. "I won't blow the whistle on you. I do want to meet the girl, though. Is she here?"

"She's off today," Edward muttered, praising providence for the fact that Rachel had had the graveyard shift that night and was now safe in bed, away from his sister's prying eyes.

"Pity," Esme smirked. "Well, there will be other times, I guess." She shrugged, though the lights were still sparkling in her eyes. "I'd better get home. I believe the police wanted to have another chat with Jasper sometime this afternoon."

Edward nodded, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hang in there, sis."

She winked, shrugging off his hand as she turned to walk away. "Isn't that what I always do?"

She was right. There was no other way about it. As Edward watched her walk out of the hospital, he was reminded of the many times in her life she'd had to 'hang in there': when their father tried to pimp her out to his business associates, when she broke away from the family chokehold and left with nothing but the clothes on her back, when she traveled the globe for almost ten years, working odd jobs to get her from city to city or when she fell in love with a man who was still legally married and got saddled with his two kids when the (then) ex-wife decided to pick her career over motherhood. She'd always made it work, whereas he…

Edward sighed, trudging back to the admittance desk to claim his next chart. The only thing he'd ever done was mope when he should have been thanking his lucky stars for all the chances he'd gotten in life. _Well, at least it's not too late to make a difference. _

And he tried, at least, as far as the sick and wounded of Forks would let him. It was a boring day, though. With all of the patients brought in after the incident in the woods already back at home, the hospital had gone back to its usual quiet, and at times almost deserted state, leaving him with plenty of time to catch up on his paperwork but with virtually no challenge to his abilities. Which was probably why they'd sent him there in the first place.

It wasn't until much later in the afternoon that finally something caught his interest; the name at the top of a brand new chart jumping out and catching his eye as soon as he'd picked it up. "Isabella Harrison?"

The nurse behind the desk nodded, making Edward realize he'd spoken out loud. "She came in just now, presenting with a headache and dizziness after a kitchen accident."

He nodded, reading over the symptoms on the chart. "Well, I'd better take a look then."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he entered the little curtained chamber, needing all his wits about him before he faced her, though he wasn't completely sure why. Was it because he expected her to launch another attack on him? Or was it because he wanted to steel himself against the effect she always seemed to have on him; the one that left him wanting her even though he knew it was wrong?

"Miss Harrison?" He finally pushed back his feelings, going into professional mode as he entered the little private area.

Isabella looked up at the mention of her name, her eyes a bit fuzzy and her skin even paler than usual. "Doctor Masen? We meet again, it seems."

He nodded, distracting himself from the almost magnetic-like attraction she held to him by keeping his eyes trained to the chart. "You've got a headache?"

"Is that what they wrote on the chart?" Isabella frowned, the look of displeasure on her face becoming and almost familiar feature as Edward finally drew his eyes away from the chart. "The truth is a little more complicated, I'm afraid."

"Then please enlighten me," Edward shrugged, putting the chart in the little rack on the edge of the bed as he tried to assume a professional stance; something made extremely difficult by the close quarters in which he found himself with the woman who, no matter how hard he tried to resist, always made him _feel_ where he had been nothing but an empty vessel before. Strange though that sounded, even to him.

"I was preparing lunch, as usual," she started, a slight blush tainting her cheeks, "when a stack of salad bowls fell from the top cupboard. It's stupid, really…" She smiled bitterly, rubbing the side of her head as she absentmindedly shook it. "I've used that cupboard so many times and I _know_ I should always use the stepstool, but I guess I _had_ to be stubborn, didn't I?"

And there was that tone again; the natural, singsong-like cadence to her voice as it became devoid of all its artificial politeness. "I tried to reach the damn bowl with the tips of my fingers and the whole stack fell down…right on top of my head. It probably would have looked damn funny if it wouldn't have hurt so much."

"How many bowls were in the stack?" Edward asked, his medical training finally kicking in.

"Four at least," she answered, "and I guess I should mention that they were made of stainless steel."

"Yep, that definitely is something I want to know," Edward nodded, producing the little flashlight from his white coat as he started to examine his patient, his mind now in full doctor-mode. "It looks like you've got a mild concussion."

"Shit," she cussed, the corners of her lips pulling into a grimace. "Aro isn't going to like this. He can't stand disruptions to his schedule."

"Is he here?" Edward asked, scribbling his finding onto the chart.

"No," Isabella frowned as if the question was so foreign to her it deserved a more detailed explanation. "He's resting. Why should he be?"

Edward's eyes nearly budged out of his head as an awful suspicion started to sneak up on him. "Then how did you get here?" He didn't like the thought James Harrison behind the wheel but at least his dependency upon her would make sure he took every proper precaution.

She merely shrugged. "I drove."

_She drove_. She had a mild concussion and an awfully big bump on her head and yet she braved hairpin curves and a fucking rainforest to get to the ER. _Alone_.

Immediately a strong sense of protection kicked in, his mouth moved even before he had time to check it. "You're not driving back."

She arched a brow, a snide smile playing around the edge of her lips as she looked at him. "I'm not? Then how in hell am I supposed to get back? Fly on my broomstick?"

"Now that would be in idea!" he joked before turning serious again. "Seriously, you're in no condition to drive right now. I'm off in fifteen minutes, which would be about the time it would take one of the nurses to get you discharged. I'll take you back. We'll see about getting your car back when I come to check on Mister Harrison tomorrow."

Somehow she sensed that the topic was beyond discussion, though that didn't stop her from lacing her voice with a syrupy strong sarcasm as she spoke. "I'm much obliged, _Doctor_ Masen."

He huffed, dunking the chart back into the tray as he pushed the curtain open. "I'm only doing my job."

It wasn't until he was on the other side of the curtain that he managed to draw in a deep breath again, his lungs singing with happiness after having been constricted for too long. _What the hell was going on? _

Edward didn't have long to look for an answer because the next fifteen minutes found him wrapping up his shift and bringing the car towards the exit, Isabella daintily arranging herself on the passenger seat as he drove off, the close proximity of her to him as she sat in the passenger seat having the same effect as it had back at the hospital.

The silence between them was as stifling as it had been a few days ago when she drove him back after brunch, only this time something was significantly different about the two of them as they sat fidgeting nervously in their seats. The hostility was gone; the venomous undertone that had always been there in their dealings with each other now replaced by something else, something Edward couldn't really put his finger on.

It was as if in that little curtained area a bridge had been crossed and they had come to some sort of understanding, though the 'how' was as inexplicable as the nature of that understanding. There was just…_something_ between them that had never been there before.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright being back at home?" Edward asked, his hands hovering idly on the steering wheel as they waited in front of the traffic light. "You should really take it easy for a day or two and…and I guess that can't be easy with Aro-"

"I'll be fine," she interrupted him, the sharpness in her voice letting him know he was venturing into dangerous territory. "Aro is not that far gone that he can't allow for some consideration when I'm sick."

Edward nodded, though he had a hard time believing her. The nature of his patient's disease simply contradicted her words. After all, paranoia and extreme disorientation left little room for empathy.

"He didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking," she went on, her tone accusing as she cautiously rubbed the bump on top of her head. "It happened just as I said. It was an _accident_."

The way she stressed the word made him wonder of the opposite was maybe true, though he hadn't even considered that James might have been the cause of Isabella's troubles before. Come to think of it, though, he had read about how the disease affected the patients' mind, making them hallucinate and lapse into fits of paranoia that could often make them violent.

He hated the thought of Isabella being the victim of any of that; her frail, porcelain skin too perfect to be marred by a madman's attack. The thought alone made his hands clench around the wheel as an almost violent tension set in his shoulders. There was nothing he could do, though, except for what he was already trying. No matter how much he wished there was.

"I want to thank you." Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible over the muted rumble of the car engine but, nevertheless, the shock of hearing it made him jump a little. "For taking me home? You didn't have to do this."

Edward chuckled nervously, not really knowing how to handle her being nice to him. "Contrary to what you may think, I'm not that bad of a guy once you get to know me."

She shrugged. "Well maybe that's just the thing?"

Edward brows scrunched as he fought to keep his eyes on the road instead of on the strange, enigmatic girl sitting next to him. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged again as she plucked at the sleeve of her cardigan. "I'm not a complete bitch either, once you get to know _me_, but maybe that's just it. Maybe we're not supposed to get to know each other. And maybe that's for the best."

"What are you saying?" Edward's brow furrowed even deeper as he silently contemplated driving her back to the hospital. She must have hit her head a lot harder than he thought.

She smiled sadly, her shoulders losing their tension as the front of the house came into view. She waited until the car was nearly stationary before she turned towards him, her eyes radiating a kind of honesty and sincerity Edward found hard to place. "I'm saying that you could really screw up my life in ways you can't even imagine."

And then she was gone, leaving Edward in that familiar state of baffled 'what-the-fuck-ness' that always seemed to go hand in hand with meeting her as he watched the door fall back into its lock behind her.

A glance at the dashboard clock, however, told him that, again, he didn't have long to take stock of his confused emotions, the hour of his date with Rachel drawing closer and closer with him still halfway between the known world and the wilderness. He felt weird, going out with Rachel right after spending time with Isabella. It felt almost like cheating, even though he was fairly sure Isabella Harrison would rather French kiss a hedgehog than think of him romantically.

He drove back quickly, the deserted roads allowing him to stretch the car's capabilities as far as they went as he navigated the bendy mountain way, his mind warped between the girl he'd just felt behind and the woman his thoughts were supposed to linger on; the one he was about to pick up for a date.

Try as he might, though, he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting back to Isabella and that aura of mystery that clung to her very being. His mind mulling over every single thing she'd said until it was spinning with even more questions than he'd had to begin with, his hands white and overstrained from gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as he wound his way back down the mountain.

He arrived back home just in time for a quick change of clothes, his footsteps halting on the first floor landing as he made his way back down from the second floor, the doctor in him needing to know that the boy recovering in one of the rooms off the landing was still doing okay.

Jasper looked up the second he heard the knock on his door, his face still pale and messed up but his eyes eager for a break in the monotony even if he knew he would be paying for it with a splitting headache later on. "Hey." He didn't really know their houseguest – or should he have called him his step-uncle? – all that well but with no one but his sister and stepmom and the occasional representative from the Clallam County Police Force keeping him company for the past few days, he was happy with every distraction he could get.

Besides, from what he'd seen and heard of Edward, the guy wasn't that bad. Horribly 'establishment' of course, but not so much so that it made him completely beyond rescuing or reason. Unlike his little sister.

"How are you feeling?" Edward asked, lingering near the doorway as he peeked in.

"Like shit!" Jasper chuckled, the strain of moving and being alert visible in the tense set of his mouth. "But I guess that's what happens when you think you can take on the establishment."

"Any problems with dizziness or nausea?" Edward barely resisted the urge to look for a flashlight to assess the boy's pupillary response as he tried to decide whether or not it was safe to leave Jasper to the care of his sister that night; his indifferent and medically untrained sister.

"Nope. Just feel like I'm on the back end of a three-day boozefest," Jasper smirked, "but without the high or the possibility of getting laid."

"Well, you only have yourself to blame for that!" Edward chuckled, looking at his watch. _He really should get going_. "Will you be okay tonight?"

Jasper shrugged. "I'm tucked up in bed with a headache that doesn't even allow me to be awake for more than a few hours on end. I don't think I'll be able to get into much trouble even if I tried."

"True," Edward grinned.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure Dad and Esme will be calling Rosalie about every fifteen minutes or so," Jasper went on, looking like the prospect of his sister being harassed didn't really bother him all that much. If at all. "I doubt even _she_ would dare to just let me croak under those circumstances."

"Well, if there's anything wrong, just holler," Edward replied, taking one of his business cards out of his wallet and putting it on the bedside table. "I don't think I'll be out that late and I'd rather you call me than disrupt your parents' date. They really need to spend some time together."

"I'm hearing ya," Jasper nodded. "Oh, and way to pick up on the local lingo, city boy!"

Edward grinned, bumping fists with the boy before heading out, saying a quick goodbye to his sister as she got ready for her own date before making his way over to the other side of town to pick Rachel up for their night.

She looked great, her little black dress showing off her body in a way that no set of nurses' scrubs or comfy post-work outfit could. "You look amazing!" he grinned, unable to keep himself from appraising her as she walked out towards him.

"Don't sound so surprised," she chuckled, beaming as she walked passed the passenger door he held open for her to slide into her seat.

"I'm not," he backpedaled, "I'm just…"

"Uh huh," she playfully scolded when it seemed to take him awfully long to finish his sentence. "Let's just get to Port Angeles before you dig yourself into an even bigger hole?"

"Yes, please!" he breathed, starting the car and tearing out of the street enthusiastically, eliciting just the kind of response he desired from the girl next to him.

They discussed simple, easy stuff on their way over to the restaurant; mainly things happening at work or in town, just the kind of things that made for easy conversation in that stage of a relationship where the people involved still tried to test the waters. It wasn't until they were seated at the small, cozy restaurant and were halfway through their starters that Rachel took their conversation a bit further.

"Tell me about yourself," Rachel asked, spooning up the remnants of her shrimp cocktail appetizer. "Did you actually have a life you left behind in Chicago or are you just as happy to let the hospital eat all your fun time like the rest of us?"

"I _had_ a life." Edward sighed, knowing that if things went the way he hoped they'd go between them, he had to give her something about himself. Chicks usually wanted to know stuff.

"With the emphasis on _had_?" Rachel's brow arched as she waited for him to elaborate.

He shrugged. "Ex-wife."

"Sorry." She blushed. "Touchy subject?"

"Nah, not really." He shrugged again. "It's just your average two-doctors-marrying-for-all-the-wrong-reasons case. We're still friends, though."

"A lot of people say that and yet I've never seen anyone actually pull that sort of thing off," Rachel mused, her cheeks darkening as her mind caught up with her mouth. "Not that I'm accusing you of lying or anything."

"It was really weird at first," Edward admitted, "but we're still such a big part of each other's lives that we had to make it work somehow…and she really was my best friend above all else, even when we were married."

"Wow!" Rachel chuckled. "I wish I could say that about some of the losers I've dated over the years."

"So what about you?" Edward was quick to ask, seizing the opportunity to change the subject before he told her too much. That had never been part of the plan. "Have you been living in Forks for all your life?"

She shook her head. "I grew up on the Quileute reservation not far from here but we had to move after some stuff with my dad happened…" Her lips pulled into a tight smile as she wrung her hands in her lap. "Basically my dad fell out with some of the other elders and we either had to move or get used to being cold-shouldered. So we moved here."

"And your dad opened the shop?" He asked, not wanting to pressure Rachel in sharing stuff she obviously wanted to keep private by pressing the matter.

She nodded. "Apart from three years in Seattle for college, I haven't left."

"You went to Seattle for nursing school?"

"No." Again her smile was tense. "Pre-med. I was actually just accepted into medical school at U-Dub when my mom got sick and I had to come back home."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she was quick to rely. "It was a long time ago and she was very sick at the end. It was better that way."

"Why didn't you go through with it? With Med School, I mean," he wondered. "You could have gone back after everything settled down again."

She shrugged, her mouth twitching slightly as she breathed out slowly through her nose. "My brother – Jake…he had a hard time coping with all of it…fell into the wrong crowds and all of that. Besides, with the shop and the rest of the kids being so young, dad needed me here."

"So you became a nurse." Edward nodded, the story taking shape in his head.

"Yep." Her smile was back as she looked at him. "And I've really come to love my job so don't go thinking of me as some sort of charity case."

"I wouldn't dare!" Edward held up his hands in surrender as he laughed, happy to have the conversation back in easier waters. "If being a nurse is where you want to be, then go for it! No one should tell you what you should or shouldn't do with your life." His smile became a little forced as he thought back to the fights he'd had with his father and, on occasion, his mother on just that same subject. It still hurt that neither of his parents had been very supportive of his choice, though both for different reasons, so he could very well imagine how she felt, having to defend her choice every damn time.

"I love my job." The smile on her face told him how much she meant it, her eyes turning inquisitive again as they landed back on him. "So what about you? Have you always wanted to be a doctor?"

"For as long as I can remember, yes," Edward nodded, "much to my dad's disappointment."

Her head cocked to the side as she watched him in confusion. "Why? Most parents I know would be over the moon with a choice like that."

He shrugged. "As the CEO of the family enterprise, he had another profession in mind for me. I was supposed to go into the firm and learn the ropes so that I would be able to take the helm after he decided to step down." Edward was amazed that he could actually get the words out without smirking but, as he dug into his main course, he reckoned that it was just because of the company he was in. Everything seemed to be easier with Rachel around. Because she was easy to be with.

"And you didn't want to take over?" she inquired, tucking into her own meal.

He shook his head. "The thought alone makes me want to hurl. Number crunching and planning takeovers never really appealed to me."

"Good." She smiled, her hand touching his over the table, "because I find that most number crunching, takeover managing guys are arrogant assholes."

He flashed her his boyish grin. "Does that mean I pass the test?"

"You might." She shrugged, averting her face as she threw herself into devouring her food with renewed vigor. There was no need for him to see the effect that lopsided grin of his had on her.

The rest of the night passed much in the same way, the two of them discussing college experiences and freaky past-patients over the remainder of their main course and well into the slice of pecan pie they shared for dessert before the end of dinner found them back in the car to Forks.

It was great. She was great. But still, all throughout the night Edward couldn't stop but think what it might have been like if a different brown-eyed woman had been sitting across from him at the little corner table.

He knew that with her, things would never have been as easy and relaxed as they were with Rachel – she just wasn't that kind of woman – but he also knew that, as great as his evening had been, it had lacked the intensity even a mere shared glance with Isabella stirred inside of him.

It was strange and frustrating to keep on dangling between the two opposites – easygoing and casual on the one side and complex and intense on the other – and as they got closer to town, Edward could feel himself getting more wound up with every mile they drove.

Why couldn't he just focus on what – and _who_ – was in front of him? Why couldn't he just be happy he'd found a great girl who seemed to be interested in him enough to spend some time with him and who, by the looks of it, wouldn't be opposed to a good make out session – or even more, if he played his cards right – in the hallway when he dropped her off? Why couldn't he just _go_ for it?

But that was just it. He _couldn't_. There was something holding him back, something deep down inside that knew this wasn't right, that Rachel was the wrong woman for him to be with, no matter how easy she was to be around or how good it made him feel. How good she _could_ make him feel.

He sighed, his hands clenching around the wheel as he parked the car by the side of the road next to Rachel's house, determined to put a stop to all silly thoughts of other women when something damn good was right in front of him - or next to him at that moment. "Well…here we are."

_Well, this is awkward_. He cringed at his own lack of skills. No matter how long it had been since he'd been out on a date with a woman who wasn't his wife, he should have done better than uttering a cliché in a shaky voice. What was he? Fifteen years old?

If Rachel found his stuttering laughable, she didn't let on. "Yeah," she smiled. _Again with the sweet, easy smile of hers that made him want to want her more than anything._ "I had a great time tonight."

"So did I." He nodded, feeling that inward sense of triumph when it became clear Rachel was waiting for him to make a move. "Let me walk you to your door?"

"That would be nice." Rachel beamed, even though at the short distance between the car and the front door of her apartment building and the lack of actual crime figures that marked the small, rural town, she would have been in no real danger of being mugged, maimed or killed, even if Edward had stayed in the car or driven away.

Edward smiled back as he followed her, though it didn't escape her notice that there was a kind of tension around his mouth that made her wonder if they were both on the same page when it came to what was happening between them. She sure hoped so because…_damn_, she wanted him.

All doubts were cast aside, though, the minute they reached her front door; a look of sheer determination crossing over Edward's face only seconds before he pressed his lips to hers, his hands closing around her waist and pulling her into him as his hips pressed her up against the door.

_Fuck, yeah!_ She thought, her hands finally doing what they'd been dying to do ever since she set eyes on him as they wove into those riotous, untamed locks of his, a wanton moan escaping her lips as she felt just how 'into' her he was at that moment.

For a second Edward felt a sheer sense of triumph, the needs of his body and desires of his mind overwriting that nagging voice at the back of his head that kept on telling him what he was doing was wrong. _Well, fuck this!_ He growled to himself, his hand wandering underneath the hem of her dress and up her leg as he kissed her until they were both almost blue in the face.

_Still, it felt wrong. _He growled, pulling away from her and taking a few steps backwards to put some distance between the two of them even though he was sure Rachel wouldn't be averse to inviting him in. _It feels wrong. It will be wrong, even though he doesn't want it to_.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he panted, his eyes lingering on her flustered and thoroughly kissed expression for just long enough to watch her nod faintly before he made his way back to the car, his sense of triumph diminishing with every step he took.

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_**Thoughts?**_

_**BTW, the salad bowl incident really happened. And it hurt. **_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 12. **

_**The breakthrough.**_

"Okay then. I can do this." Edward took a deep breath, his hands clenching around the steering wheel as the sound of the car engine slowly faded, leaving nothing but the sounds of the forest and the slow hum of jazz music pouring from the stereo.

_Duke Ellington._ Just what a man needed to give him courage on his first solo visit to one of the most trying patients he'd ever encountered in his career. Not that it had been a very lengthy career, though. He'd only been flying solo for a year before he got caught red-handed stealing prescription drugs from the hospital pharmacy.

This was a huge moment and to say that he was afraid he'd mess it up would be the understatement of the year. He sat back and sighed, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep his nerves in check. There was a lot riding on this and it wasn't just the well-being of his patient. He was well aware that Carlisle had given him a huge vote of confidence by letting him go out there alone, this time on 'official' business as opposed to last Sunday's social call.

He couldn't screw all of his brother-in-law's hard work up just because he was too inexperienced or messed up to keep his head in the game. No, even if it was born out of the necessity of Carlisle having to tend to his sick son, it was Edward's chance to prove himself worthy of his position and he would be damned if he was going to let it slide.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing as slowly but surely his game face slid into place, his shoulders squaring as he visualized the task ahead of him. He was going to go in there on his own and win the hearts and minds of the two inhabitants or perish fighting. Or something like that.

"Are you ever going to get out of that damned car or will you just let me stand here all day catching pneumonia?" Her eyes were alive with sarcasm as she peered into his car, her body daintily swaying out of the way as he opened the car door and got out.

Just like every other time he'd seen her, she was looking like she'd wandered out of a fifties magazine or Good Housekeeping; her striped skirt ending just under her knees and the black blouse she wore on top of it following her figure but never in a way that made her look wanton or slutty. Still, as he stealthily let his eyes wander over her picture perfect outfit, perfectly styled hair and red lips to match, he had to conclude that she looked sensual in a way that kind of got to him.

Not that he was willing to admit it, though. No, if anyone would have asked him what he thought about Isabella, he would have joked and said that for a bitter harpy, she might not have been too unfortunate looking. Or something like that.

He would be lying, though, if he denied his obvious attraction to the girl, even if he knew there would never be anything more between them than the bond a doctor shared with a patients' relative. There _could_ never be more than that between them.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the clearing of a throat next to him, Isabella still waiting rather impatiently for his reply.

"You'll be fine," he chuckled, realizing the girl was probably waiting for some kind of reply. "It takes a whole lot more to contract pneumonia than just a little draft. Oh, and good afternoon to you, too."

"Well, I still say it's hellishly impolite to keep a lady waiting," she quipped, looking as eager to cross conversational swords again as he was, the lights sparking in his eyes making his pants feel awfully tight in the front. "If visiting unannounced didn't already count as such, but then again, you already learned what happens if you do that."

His grin widened as he tried to decide what he liked better: an Isabella who spoke freely and in a vernacular ill befitting the clothes she wore, or one who crafted her sentences, and her insults, in a way reminiscent of the older and better times of the music he loves so well. "Then, indeed, I must apologize," he finally spoke, bowing deeply in that same mocking fashion she usually adopted. "Though I swear I meant no offense. I'm just happy you appear to be willing to let me into the house this time."

She changed color for the merest hint of a moment, her eyes betraying her surprise at getting as good as she gave, but all too soon she was in command of herself again. "Let's just get inside before the tea gets cold," she grumbled, untouched by his apology and apparently ill at ease under the blatant flattery that went with their little game.

He followed her into the house through the high-ceilinged and impossibly white and pristine foyer and into the living room that had been the scene of most of his meetings with the patient. His eyes more than once drifting from her back to a place slightly more south on her anatomy; a place – he had to admit it – that looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor, even when obscured by a flowy skirt.

"Dr. Masen!" James' eyes lit up the minute Edward became visible. "How nice of you to stop by and chase away the boredom that has been threatening to take hold of me. You're just in time for tea."

He could almost feel Isabella rolling her eyes behind him as he conjured a smile onto his face, playing along with the 'happy coincidence' when all parties involved knew his visit had been announced and carefully planned in advance. If it got him in his good books, he was willing to bend the truth a little every now and then even if it meant that he was apparently visiting his patients out of a desperate need for tea and light refreshments instead of a stealthy medical check-up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, my young friend," the old man went on, gesticulating wildly at the seat closest to him. "Sit! Sit! Tell me of the news around town. What is this I hear about a skirmish at Kings Timber Yard?"

Edward smiled wryly, wondering how James would react if he told him about Jasper Cullens' involvement. _Probably not that good_. "A bunch of kids decided that enough of our trees had been harvested in the name of forestry and tried to put a stop to it." James' eyes shone with glee, his body arching forwards as he listened completely spellbound by Edward's words. "Unfortunately they soon found out that trees are rather unforgiving examples of Mother Nature's force when set loose upon a gang of seventeen-year-olds."

His patient laughed, his breath labored as his chest constricted with each breath. "Ah, yes, my Isabella told me many of them ended up in hospital, which is just what they deserved for causing trouble. This is why my dear friend Doctor Cullen couldn't join us today, is it not?"

Edward nodded, again unsure of what to reveal. It was now clear that James couldn't muster much sympathy for the tree huggers and their cause and, though Edward was by no means ashamed of what Jasper had done, he didn't want to risk his standing with the patient by defending, or even implicating, his step-nephew.

"Your loyalty to your brother-in-law commends you," his patient spoke, his hands meeting in a triangle in front of his chin as he stared the young doctor down. "Though it is completely unnecessary in this case. As remote as we are up here, we are still well-abreast of all the goings on in Forks, my dear Isabella makes sure of it."

_So this has been a test._ Edward kept his smile in place as his mind was working a mile a minute to connect the dots. _But of what? _

Isabella smiled sweetly from the spot across the room where she had been sitting as still as a living statue until then. "Shall I pour our tea, uncle?" she asked, apparently relieved to finally get a chance to speak.

James nodded his head brusquely, not wasting any words on something as insignificant as tea when there was intelligent conversation to be had. "You, however, my dear Dr. Masen, still pose quite the enigma to us."

"Me?" Edward smiled as he sat back, trying to mask his uncertainty by keeping in motion. _What did the old man want to know? _

"Yes, _you_," James confirmed, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on his visitor's every gesture. "You have come to my house three times now and yet, all I've learned about you is that you have some knowledge about classical music – though I still have no idea of whether or not you actually _enjoy_ it – and that you hail from a somewhat questionable family." He paused, his eyes dancing with humor as Edward laughed freely at his last remark. "As to everything else, however, my Isabella and I remain completely in the dark."

"Then what would you and Miss Harrison like to know?" Edward leaned forward again, not put out in the slightest by James' blatant dig at his family. In fact, as far as his dad and oldest sister were concerned, he'd rather agreed with him.

"Let's start easy, shall we?" James grinned smugly, sitting back again as he folded his hands in front of his stomach. "Do you actually like the classical music you seem so knowledgeable of?"

Edward smiled, drawing out his thinking time by carefully setting his plate back on the table and chewing his sandwich until there was none left. "I like it well enough, I suppose, but I'd have to admit that my true heart lies with jazz music."

"Jazz?" James almost choked on his sip of tea, his hand trembling dangerously as he tried to catch his breath again. Nonetheless he seemed to be quite chagrinned when Isabella jumped in to help, his hands waving her off before she could even cross the distance between her seat and his. "That nonsensical fiddling? You must be out of your mind, my dear boy!"

"Tastes differ, I suppose." Though Edward remained outwardly calm, his eyes were trained to his patients' reaction, hoping the excitement wouldn't worsen his condition. From out of the corners of his eyes he could see Isabella was doing the same, that was, whenever she wasn't glaring daggers in Edward's direction.

"Well, I'll have you know that I will have you driven out of this house the minute you try to poison my Isabella's mind with that nonsense," James warned, the lack of humor in his eyes making Edward wonder if he was serious. "I will have none of it. Nor will she."

"Do not worry, uncle," Isabella smiled, topping off their teacups. "I have no desire to listen to anything but that which pleases you."

James' answering smile resembled that of a Cheshire Cat as he patted her hand benevolently as if she were, indeed, a very well-behaved little kitten. "As it should be, my dear, as it should be."

The whole thing made Edward feel slightly nauseous and uncomfortable, as he wondered, not for the first time, what the true nature of Isabella's relationship with her uncle was. It seemed so strange and borderline, though sometimes well across it, unhealthy at times. From what he had seen and heard, James was master and commander in his own little world, allowing no opposition or disobedience. The strangest part, however, was how a girl as sharp and feisty as Isabella would just put up with it. _Why would she do that?_

"I suppose the subject of music wasn't as light and easy as we thought it was," Edward finally joked, eager to get the conversation going again so that he could stealthily assess his patients' mental status.

"No, indeed!" James chuckled, "though I guess I might have known. After all, have lesser men not been slain for this?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Edward replied. "So, next question?"

"Yes, next question." James was back to his composed, inquisitive self, his hands shaking slightly as he put his cup back on its saucer. "Tell me, why did you become a neurosurgeon?"

At least it was a question Edward had no difficulty answering. "Because it's one of the most difficult specialties and I…I felt I had something to prove."

"Something to prove?" James nodded his head, his mouth slightly pursing as he looked at the young man next to him, mulling his words over. "I suppose your father did not approve of your chosen profession, no?"

"He didn't," Edward confessed, "though his disapproval didn't deter me in the slightest. In fact, it only made me more determined to succeed and show him that I didn't need the Masen name and background to succeed in life."

"And yet you putter away in a small country hospital," James mused. "No offense, of course."

"None taken." Edward smiled wryly, the muttered words of the old man hitting home extra hard because they were true. "It's only temporary, though. Last year my wife and I decided to go our own ways and though our divorce was amicable, it still took a lot out of me. I needed some time away to get some perspective again, so when my sister offered her home as a place of refuge, I was very eager to take her up on her offer." It was the story he and Carlisle had decided to settle on; the one that would explain why he had moved all the way to the middle of nowhere to live with his sister, without laying bare any of the darker reasons that had really spurred his move.

Judging from the way James' head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed as he stared Edward down, the old man's curiosity had been piqued. "So you are returning to Chicago?" he inquired.

Edward nodded, relieved the man had not gone for a more difficult line of questioning. "In just under six months me and my unseemly musical tastes will be out of your hair," he joked.

Again, his words managed to make his patient laugh, though in spite of his good humor, Edward was beginning to see how their meeting was starting to weigh on the old man's body; the spasms in his hands becoming more frequent and those keen eyes became clouded and less alert. James didn't acknowledge his own body's warnings, though, his mind stubbornly sticking to the opportunity the younger man offered him. "Such an interesting story," he mused. "It makes me wish I had another book in me. I am sure you would have been a most fascinating subject."

"A pitiful one, I'm sure," Edward chuckled nervously. _If only the man knew._ "I'm not all that interesting to be honest." He then quickly changed the subject to a less dangerous topic, or so he thought. "But what about the two of you? Has Isabella always lived under your roof or did you snatch her away from somewhere?"

From out of the corners of his eyes he could see Isabella pale, her eyes resembling those of a deer caught in headlights as the sandwich she'd been eating hovered in mid-air while she waited for her uncle to reply. _Strange_.

"Isabella has been with me only for the past five years," James answered, not as composed as he used to be. "I have had to train her, of course, since she was so dreadfully uncivilized when she first came to me…but she has proven to be quite useful."

The tone of his voice taught Edward better than to ask another question, though his mind was bursting with them. Instead he settled on the more to-the-point questions about James' health that he had been intending to ask ever since he'd set foot inside the house, the tension that had the room in its grasp slowly slipping away as the seconds stretched.

But it wasn't forgotten. Edward knew that, unwittingly, he had set the man's alarm bells ringing. James was wary of him now, which meant it would be a long time before he would be able to delve into his personal life again.

It wasn't until Edward was helping Isabella to clear away the leftovers and dirty dishes that he dared to broach the subject again, though this time far away from James' listening ears. "How do you bear it?" He knew he was probably going to get shut down and not too kindly too, but he _had_ to try. For his own peace of mind.

She looked up, seemingly puzzled by his question. "Bear what?"

Edward shrugged. "Being here? If I know you at all, you're not the kind of woman who is meek and obedient by nature and yet you play the part to perfection whenever he is near. How can you stand by and smile while he talks about you the way he did just now? As if you're a thing instead of a living human being?"

She too shrugged, her smile bitter as she stalled for a few moments before speaking. "It's odd how necessity can change a human being, is it not?" She sighed wistfully, her eyes far away as she went on. "If you'd have been though some of the stuff I had to live through, you'd have known that sacrificing things like your principles or your pride is a small thing if it means being safe and well-fed."

Her answer made him almost feel nauseous for the things it implied.

_What kind of life had she lived? _

_How could a woman, a girl, as young as her have had to learn such bitter lessons about life? _

_What made her think that there was nothing out there but this life of imprisonment she was living?_

"But surely you could have your own life?"

She turned towards him, her smile sending shivers of shock down his spine as she grinned at him. "Don't be silly."

Before he could collect himself or even think about how to reply she was gone, her hips pushing the swinging doors between the kitchen and living room apart as she went in to join her uncle again.

_Uncle_. Somehow Edward didn't think he really was her uncle. But then what was he to her?

He was unsure of what to do with himself as he stepped back into the living room, something about Isabella's offhand comments completely throwing him. She seemed to remain completely unaffected, her tingling laughter ringing out like a chorus of bells as she and James spoke in hushed voices.

"I…erm…" he stammered, feeling completely out of his element.

"Yes?" James looked up, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile as if his visitors' unease somehow amused him.

"I wonder if I might examine Isabella," he blurted out, wondering quietly how he could have forgotten all about her accident a few days before. _Maybe because she's just as quick witted and sharp tongues as she always has been._

"Isabella? You want to examine _Isabella_?" James seemed completely astonished as the woman in question merely glared at him from her end of the room. "My dear boy…you do realize that out of the two of us, _I_ am the one who is suffering from a mortal illness, no?"

Isabella seemed as shocked by her uncle's sudden admission of his disease as Edward was, the look on her face telling him it was a very rare occurrence. "I am well aware of that, Aro," he chuckled, logging the moment away for further inspection when he had the time, "but seeing as Isabella is still recovering from a mild concussion, I am anxious to find out how she's faring."

"I'm doing fine," Isabella shrugged as she now, in turn, looked like a fish out of water. "I have stuck to the advice you gave me and now I am well again. There is no need to worry." Her final words meant more as a plea to her uncle than as an explanation to Edward.

"Still," Edward persevered, "for my own peace of mind, as well as your uncle's, I imagine, I would like to do a quick check-up."

"Of course." It was James' voice that decided the argument, his hand pushing a very reluctant and pissed off Isabella in Edward's general direction as the young doctor rifled around in his briefcase for his trusty little flashlight. "I would not want for my Isabella to suffer needlessly."

Again he spoke about 'his' Isabella; as if he owned her. A sharp, almost murderous flash of hot rage pulsed through Edward's system, accompanied by the clear and very dangerous thought that Isabella should be no other's but _his_.

He was quick to repress it, though, forcing his mind not to register the sweet floral scent of her as Isabella stepped within his reach or the smooth, soft feeling of her skin under his hands as he went through the motions of a quick examination.

"You're good with him," she whispered, as brief flash of her eyes assuring her that her uncle was dozing off into his own little sleepless world. "I don't think he's ever admitted to being ill before. Not to _anyone_."

"Not even to you?" Edward asked, his eyes and mind still fixed on her pupillary response as he flashed his light into her eyes.

"_Especially_ not to me," she chuckled, as if the thought alone was ludicrous. "I knew you were going to be a danger to me the first time we met."

Before Edward had a chance to ask what the hell that meant, her uncle had woken up again, his eyes once again keenly following the two young people in the other corner of the room.

"And?" he asked, his voice slightly worried and tense. "How is she?"

"She's as well as can be expected," Edward answered, reluctantly stepping away from Isabella before she could accuse him of hovering, his voice softening as he directed it at her. "You should still take it easy for a couple of days, though."

She smirked, seemingly skeptical of his advice. "I'll see."

He studied her, stealthily of course and never in a way that could tip James off for the short remainder of his stay but, even though she was much more pleasing to the eye than her uncle was, he learned about as much as he had done studying James. _Nothing_. Well, nothing he didn't already know.

Outwardly she was everything a pampered, well brought-up girl should be, down to the clothes, the way she talked whenever her uncle was near and her every gesture and expression. Still, there had been moments when he thought he could see the true Isabella; the woman underneath the mask she's so craftily molded into place. And what he saw in those few, fleeting moments completely confounded him.

_Don't be silly. _There was more meaning to those three simple words than they implied. He knew it.

Much later, as he sat in his car on his way back, her words still haunted him; the effect of them not even assuaged by the smooth tones of Miles Davis' trumpet or the lushness of the greenery surrounding him.

Why was she doing this? Why was she staying with a dying man who apparently seemed to dictate her life, even to the music she listened to? What would make anyone think that kind of life was good enough for them? Was it just a sense of duty to an ailing relative? But then again, didn't the man have closer kin to look after him?

He sighed, pulling into the hospital's parking lot. Once again his mind was running in circles around this girl – this _Isabella_ - with no hope of ever figuring her out. _Dammit! _Why couldn't he just switch off his feelings and treat her just like every other damn relative? Why did it have to be her, this beautiful, but barely legal and wholly-forbidden girl that occupied his mind every damn minute of every damn day?

"Edward?" He'd been so lost in his own mind that he hadn't even registered entering the hospital until he ran into Carlisle. "Do you have a moment?" Judging by the older man's determined look and swift, controlled hand gesture, his question wasn't up for debate or delay. It was more of a 'get in my office right the fuck now' kind of thing.

Edward frowned, mentally going back over his past few shifts to find anything that might warrant him being called into the chief's office. He couldn't find anything, which was only more disconcerting. _Had Isabella or James called to complain about his behavior?_ He mentally took stock of everything he'd said and done over the past couple of hours but, though his thoughts had been everything but, couldn't find anything untoward_. But then why…?_

"Is something wrong?" he asked the minute Carlisle shut the door behind him, his hands twitching nervously by his sides. He hadn't even been able to change into his doctors' whites first. Carlisle hadn't given him the opportunity to change. _Was that saying something? If it did, it had to be bad. Very bad. _

"Don't worry," Carlisle laughed a little uncomfortably though his demeanor was back to its usual calm as he pointed at one of the chairs across the desk from him, "you're not being called into the principal's office for a telling off."

"Okay," Edward hedged, scratching the back of his head. _Sure feels like it though_. "Then why am I here?"

"I wanted to know how things were going," Carlisle started. "You're just back from visiting the Harrisons, right?"

Edward got the distinct impression that this wasn't why he'd been called into Carlisle's office. After all, he could have asked him how things went with James Harrison on the floor. There was no reason to drag Edward all the way upstairs just for that. Still, in spite of the lingering unease, he decided to just play along. _Everything to keep yourself in your boss' good books, eh?_ "I did."

It was only then that Carlisle got the keenness that usually accompanied his professional conversations; the one which separated the doctors who truly cared from those who were only in it for the money. "How did it go? Did he accept you?"

Edward nodded. "It seemed like it, though there were a few close calls." He shrugged apologetically. "I'm still trying to find out what he will and won't say, I guess. It never got dangerous, though."

"Good," Carlisle, mused, "you did good. Did he present any worse than he was last week?"

"His motor functions are deteriorating," Edward explained, "and he seemed to slip into semi-consciousness halfway through the visit but I'm not sure if it's an indication of the diseases' progression or if he was merely having a bad day." Edward shrugged. "It's not him I was most worried about, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked, quickly putting two and two together in his head. "Is there something the matter with Isabella?"

"She suffered a mild concussion from what she claimed to be a kitchen incident," Edward explained, doing his best to keep his voice level.

Carlisle's eyes narrowed with though as he held Edward's gaze. "But you think differently?"

Edward leaned forward, phrasing his question carefully before he allowed himself to vocalize it.

"Have you ever known James to have violent outbursts?" He knew it happened with FFI patients. In fact, as the disease progressed and the patients' troubled minds drifted farther from reality, their paranoia and frustration over their failing bodies meant that more often than not they were. Still, the thought of Isabella trapped in the house with a delirious and possibly dangerous man was almost more than he could handle even if there was nothing that could be done about it.

"I've never seen him become violent," Carlisle was quick to answer, "but that's not saying anything since my time with him has always been very limited and I believe he's on his best behavior whenever there are other people around. Do you really think he was to blame for what happened to his niece?"

"I don't know," Edward sighed, "and the chances are I never will. I'm worried about Isabella's health and safety, though. Already her recovery is suffering because she has to take care of her uncle and the house when she should be getting as much rest as she can."

"She will be fine, I'm sure." Carlisle reassured him with a confidence Edward wasn't quite sure was based on actual fact. "She may not look like it but she's a tough one. She can take care of herself." He sat back, his steel blue eyes peering straight through Edward as they studied him. "You seem to be very sympathetic towards her, though."

"I feel for her, that's all," Edward shrugged, though he was afraid his indifference lacked the conviction to make it credible.

"Is it?" Carlisle remained skeptical. "Because I would hate to have to pull you off this case for fraternizing with your patients' family." He gave his words about twenty seconds to sink in before he continued. "Look, as much as I'm willing to turn a blind eye to fraternization among my staff, since it seems to be happening all over this damn hospital…" He shot Edward a very knowing look, "…I have to draw a line here and this…I cannot let you endanger this patients' health and, if your assumptions about him are right, maybe even Isabella's as well. I need you on this case, Edward."

"I know." Edward sighed, knowing Carlisle was speaking the truth. Besides, as much as Carlisle needed him on the case, he needed to be on the case just as much, if only to rebuild his tarnished reputation. "Believe me when I say nothing has happened that would have me in trouble with a review board…even if you would happen to be on it."

Carlisle laughed at his joke but his eyes remained sharp. "Then make sure it stays that way."

"I promise," Edward vowed, feeling a strange sort of tension settle into his spinal column as he spoke the words.

"Good," Carlisle nodded. The look in his eyes told Edward that Carlisle was by no means convinced on the matter, but at least Edward had managed to reassure him enough to get him to back off. "Now that we have that out of the way, there's another matter I wanted to discuss with you."

"I thought you might." As happy as he was to have Carlisle change the subject, he was really curious where this new direction would lead.

Carlisle shifted in his seat, looking both contemplative and uncomfortable as he spoke. "A few days ago Esme and I had a conversation that has been long overdue." Carlisle's eyes drifted away as he went on. "I know my passion for medicine has always been my fatal flaw but I never thought I'd fail my wife and family in the way I have these past years. I just…I had no idea of how bad things were." He shook his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile as he continued. "No, I was far too happy sticking my head in the sand and hiding behind my patients to see that my own life was crumbling around me."

"It happens to the best of us," Edward interjected, hating himself for glossing over what had been his own sister's personal hell. He knew all too well what it had been like for Carlisle, though, how good it felt to get lost in your job and forget the troubles waiting for you outside the hospital walls. He knew it. Hell, he'd _lived_ it.

"It shouldn't have happened to me," Carlisle spat, angry not with Edward but with himself. "It's all going to change, though. Starting right now, things are going to be different around the house. I promised Esme to be home more and take on a more active role in the life of my kids." His lips pressed together, bitterness still rolling off him in waves. "We hope that my presence will keep those two from doing more damage to property and endangering their own lives and those of others. Or turn into the most spoiled, vain little creatures to ever badger their parents."

"That's…good?" Edward spoke hesitantly, wondering why all of those words needed to be said at the hospital as opposed to their home.

"It does leave me with a bit of a problem, though," Carlisle went on, his eyes once again alert and fixed on Edward. "As this hospital's Chief of Medicine I could probably juggle both my private and professional life but, seeing as I've always desired to keep playing a very active part in the treatment of patients as well, something's gotta give…"

He sighed and Edward felt a keen sense of compassion as Carlisle's shoulders slumped forward, his face aging almost by the minute as he took a few breaths before speaking. "I'm off the surgical rotation for now." Edward could see how difficult it was for Carlisle to actually speak the words. "From now on I'll only be occupying myself with the administrative side of the hospital. I'll only be stepping on the floor in case of an emergency."

"That's-" Edward started, only to be cut off almost immediately. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for a guy like Carlisle – a man who lived and breathed medicine and surgery – to make a decision like that.

"Of course that leaves the matter of my shifts having to be taken over," Carlisle went on, "which is where you come in."

Edward licked his suddenly dry lips, barely resisting the urge to speak as he waited for Carlisle to explain himself. Part of him was bursting with excitement at the prospect of more shifts and more time to prove himself and hone his skills, while the other was dreading the strain those extra hours would put on his recovery…and the dangers.

"We were all very impressed with how you handled yourself the other day, when the emergency protocol was deployed," Carlisle finally spoke. "You showed a level of calm assertiveness and skill that none of us expected to see in someone so young, let alone someone who's been through the kind of things you went through recently. Even Maggie had to admit that maybe bringing you here might not have been such a dumb and dangerous decision after all." Carlisle smiled, leaning forward again, adding power to the air that hung between them. "My shifts are yours if you want them."

Edward could only nod, his voice completely blocked with both panic and sheer excitement as he accepted the offer.

_Let the chips fall as they may._

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_**Thoughts?**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I apologize for missing last week's update. My real life gave me hell and that, combined with FanFiction being fail on the few moments I happened to be near a computer meant no update :( **_

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** 13. **

_**The talk.**_

"It's why they call it the graveyard shift, buddy!" Banner grinned as he slapped Edward on the back in a way that insinuated way more familiarity between the two than actually existed.

Edward merely groaned, leaning back against his locker as he tried to get his mind away from dangerous thoughts. _But man, did he want a fix right now. Something to take the edge off and make him feel less worn and beaten down. _

Sleep,_ that_ was all he needed, or so he kept reminding himself. A good, long morning – and preferably a considerable part of the afternoon as well – of lying in bed in a state somewhere between unconscious and comatose.

Banner trying to crack jokes, however, was something he did not need; especially not that early in the morning and coming down from the night shift.

"You missed morning rounds," he therefore answered, trying his hardest to keep the sneer out of his voice. "Molina wasn't happy."

"Molina may think she's only seconds away from running this place," Banner growled, his jovial mood immediately shifting as he slammed his locker shut with a little more force than necessary. "But the last time I checked, she and I were still equals on the floor."

Edward shrugged. "So why did you miss rounds?"

Banner's grin exposed him as the jerk he was at heart. "Let's just say I had better things to do at seven in the morning than listen to some half-sleeping doctor mutter things I can just as well read on a chart." The wink that followed his cocky statement left little to the imagination as to what those things might have been, even if Edward hadn't known Nurse Beckett wasn't on the schedule that day.

"Are you planning to tell Molina?" Edward raised his brow, trying to picture the face of Doctor Maggie Molina, straight-laced and almost matronly in her ways, as her younger and infinitely brawnier colleague informed her that his bedroom antics had been responsible for his sin against the international moral code of conduct for doctors worldwide.

You never missed rounds unless you or one of your patients was in danger of death.

"Nah." Again Banner grinned confidently, his shoulder bumping conspiratorially against Edward's as he passed him on the way out. "And have her burst an artery right in the middle of the hospital? We're already one doc short. I'm nowhere near masochistic enough to want to explain to Nicky that I'm going to be seeing even less of her than I already am."

"You might be right about that." Edward chuckled, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips as he closed his own locker. _In thirty minutes he will be in his bed. Finally!_ "Well, good luck!"

"Thanks!" Banner grinned, stopping on his way out to brush a few errant locks of hair back into place. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

Edward could already hear the telltale sounds of a very annoyed Maggie Molina laying into Banner as he made his way out of the hospital. Good. The guy had, after all, skipped rounds, which was something you just didn't do. Hell, not even when he was at his worst had he once missed rounds and that was saying something since half the time he hadn't even been aware where the hell he was. Let alone what time of day he was living in.

"Did you hear Molina laying into Banner just now?" Rachel's voice sounded excited even though Edward was pretty sure she'd gotten less rest than he had that night, her hurried footsteps catching up with his on the way out.

"I caught the gist of it," Edward chuckled, holding the door open for her. "He deserves every bit of flak he gets, though."

"Agreed," Rachel nodded, rubbing her eyes as suddenly they were out in the bright light of morning. "Do you wanna grab some breakfast before going home? There's a place just around the corner that serves the most amazing French Toast you're ever going to taste."

His stomach grumbled loudly as if to add more weight into the balance as Edward weighed the pros and cons of delaying sleep against having a full stomach. "Sure," he finally decided, "lead the way."

She had been right; around the corner, just a couple of feet from the hospital parking lot, sat a quaint little diner, already seemingly packed to the rafters with people who all seemed to look faintly familiar. It was one of the perks, as well as the downside, of living in a small town.

The added bonus of having Rachel lead the way to what she claimed to be the promised land of all breakfast foods, was that he got to discover all the while Rachel Black had been hiding a very fine ass underneath those pink and – regrettably – unflattering nurses' scrubs she usually wore; her skinny jeans and short jacket making it pop into vision from out of nowhere. It was slim and toned, revealing that, like him, she probably liked to start those mornings on which she didn't just come off the night shift with a good long run. _Something else they have in common. _

Still, it wasn't quite as finely shaped and delectable as….No! Edward's eyes narrowed as he put a stop to his thoughts, reminding himself of the promise he'd made, to himself and to Carlisle. He wasn't going to think about her anymore. Not like that, at least. She was merely a passer-by in his life; a patient's relative, nothing more. Her ass shouldn't even be an issue to him. No matter how perfect it was.

"Edward?" Rachel's head was tipped to the side as she studied him, the slight guilty blush on his cheeks confirming her suspicion that he had, indeed, been checking out her ass. _Progress!_ The kisses they'd shared after both their dates had left her hungry for more – much more – and quite impatient to explore what the hot doctor had been hiding underneath his impeccable expensive clothes. _Maybe soon she'll finally find out…._

"So," Edward hedged, trying to make up for the staring - and the thinking about other women while he had been staring, though she didn't know about that - and the absence of mind, "this place is supposed to have the best French Toast in the world, huh?"

She nodded furiously, smiling at a few people as they entered the diner and saying 'hello' to a couple of others while she plowed her way through the diner towards a small, free table near the back. "Just wait until you taste it."

"Rach!" a short girl who looked to be somewhere in her mid-teens cried out, bounding over towards them the minute she spotted the familiar face across the room. "I didn't know you were working last night."

"I was, though thank God my shift is over!" Rachel groaned, hugging the girl close. "How are you, Angie?"

"Fine," the girl giggled, though I could have done with a bit more peace and quiet on my Sunday morning. My feet are killing me!"

"I'm surprised your father lets you work on Sunday," Rachel answered as Edward sat back, amused by the banter going on in front of him.

"He wasn't exactly overjoyed when they called me to fill in for Lauren but what can you do? Someone's gotta serve the good people of Forks their breakfast. He agreed as long as I'm back and looking my usual spotless self for Sunday service." The girl shrugged, producing a small notepad from the pocket of her blouse. "So what can I get you? The usual?"

"You bet!" Rachel grinned. "Oh, and let me introduce you to my…_guest_, Doctor Edward Masen. Edward, this is Angela Weber. I used to babysit her and her sister when they were younger."

Angela's eyes widened as she took in the stranger. "You're the new doc, aren't you?" she blurted out, her cheeks flushing scarlet almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I-"

"You're right," Edward interrupted her before she could continue her needless apology. "Rachel dragged me over here claiming you guys served the best French Toast on the Peninsula."

"In the world," Rachel gruffly corrected him.

"I take it you'll have a serving of those?" Angela asked, dutifully writing everything down on her notepad.

Edward nodded. "With a side order of bacon and some coffee, please." He hoped the caffeine would keep him active and responding throughout breakfast and alert enough to drive home safely.

Angela nodded, quickly jotting it all down before skipping off towards the kitchen, Rachel smiling widely as she watched her go. "If only her sister had turned out half as good as Angie did," she muttered, sighing wistfully as her smile turned slightly bitter. "I used to spend so much time with both of them back in the day and they were both such amazing girls, especially to a gangly looking teen who didn't really know the first thing about babysitting." Her smile widened again as her eyes got a faraway look. "They never fussed. Well, not apart from the usual bedtime stuff. We had so much fun together."

She chuckled, obviously remembering something, before she continued. "Jessica's not unlike Rosalie Cullen in a way; both scarred by stuff they had no control over." She paused as Edward smiled encouragingly, urging her to go on. "Jess and Angie's mom died from complications following Angela's birth, so it's always been the three of them…well, up until recently, when their dad – who's the town's Presbyterian Pastor, by the way – started dating again."

"So, the pastor's been back in the dating game?" Edward grinned, trying to picture the mental image that went with it. "I have a hard time picturing that, to be honest."

Rachel giggled. "It's not like he's going to single's bars or speed dating sessions or anything. He just met the right woman, at the right time, and they've been going out together."

"And let me guess: the oldest isn't really a fan of that?" Edward offered, mindful of the comparison to Rosalie Rachel had made earlier.

"Nope." Rachel sighed. "The whole thing has sent her in a tailspin of rebellion and there's been no living with her lately." Rachel sighed again, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stared out in front of her. "You've met the lovely Jessica Weber, actually, as part of the group Rosalie hangs out with."

Edward's mouth curled down in disgust as it always tended to do when the little viper was mentioned; Rosalie Cullen being the last person in the world he wanted to think about when having breakfast with a very friendly and attractive woman. "You and Angela still seem to be friends, though."

"Oh, we are!" And just like that, Rachel's radiant smile was back again, making Edward silently congratulate himself for pulling her out of her gloominess. "She's always been amazing like that, and Angie and Maggie have grown quite close, I believe."

"Maggie?" Edward frowned. "As in Doctor Molina?"

Rachel nodded. "Didn't I tell you?"

"No." Edward almost choked on a gulp of searing hot coffee as the image of matronly Doctor Molina doing the nasty sprang to mind, though he did suppose that dating a reverend kind of suited her. "I don't think you did. I think I would have remembered."

"Oops! My bad," she giggled, her excitement taking on an almost dangerous form when Angela put their plates of food in front of them. "Taste!" she ordered, not waiting for him to dig in before she started on her own plate.

Edward had to admit that the food ranked among the best breakfasts he'd ever tasted and sharing the experience with Rachel, though tiring, only made it better. He really liked her, her high spirits and easygoing nature infecting him and making him feel lighter and less beaten down whenever he was around her. She was uncomplicated, intelligent and very easy on the eye. There was nothing about her to put him off…but still something held him back.

It was killing Edward and making him feel more frustrated with himself every time he tried to gently push her away before things could spiral out of hand. He wanted it and yet he didn't want it at the same time. Hell, if his dick seemed to be 'all systems go' then why couldn't the rest of him follow along? What the hell was wrong with him?

He knew the answer, of course, which only made matters worse.

"God, I'm so full!" Rachel groaned, patting her stomach as she sat back; the noise pulling Edward out of his mind. They laughed together at her complete frankness which only made her more endearing in Edward's eyes_. Isabella will never do a thing like this_. "And sleepy too. I wish I hadn't promised dad I'd take him to church."

"God, I'm glad Esme gave me the week off!" Edward groaned. "I don't think I could keep my eyes open for another twenty minutes, let alone for the duration of mass."

Rachel shrugged, grinning as she made sure there was not even the tiniest morsel of food remaining on her plate. "I've done it loads of times. I don't really need a lot of sleep to function."

"Still, even when you hardly need sleep, you've gotta be dead on your feet after the night we've had?" Edward insisted.

"Nah, it wasn't so bad." Rachel's grin turned mischievous as she peeked at him from beneath her long, black lashes. "And who are you to say, Doctor Masen? You've spent most of the night in the on-call room sleeping. We, however, aren't allowed to slack off on our night shifts."

Edward blushed guiltily, knowing she would probably be wholly unimpressed if he explained to her how the lumpy mattress and noisy next-door staff lounge had made sure he hardly got any sleep worth a damn that night. "I'd better get going," he shrugged, quickly changing the subject, "or I'm afraid I'll fall asleep at this table in a minute or so."

"I'm sure you'd look very sexy with your head stuck in a dirty plate," Rachel chuckled, Edward's breathing hitching as she swept up a drop of maple syrup with her finger and brought it to her mouth, the tip disappearing between her full lips. "I'd better be on my way as well. Dad hates it if we're late because all the good seats are gone."

Edward chuckled, already having learned from his sister how most attendees of Sunday mass preferred a spot in the middle, where they could inconspicuously keep stock of everyone coming in without seeming too forward or disinterested by sitting way up front or in the back. It was like a game of musical chairs, Esme had said, with the whole congregation scrambling for the best seats as soon as the doors were opened.

"So?" Rachel sat back, grinning lazily. "Was it worth the delay?"

"Definitely," Edward answered with a grin.

He settled the bill and joined her as they walked back to the hospital, his hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street side by side in a comfortable silence. It wasn't until they reached Rachel's old but, courtesy to her little brother, perfectly maintained truck that Edward broke the silence. "I noticed you weren't working on Thursday?" He waited for her to nod before he went on. "Do you want to go out on Wednesday night?"

"I'd love to!" Her eyes lit up, her teeth nervously nipping her bottom lip as she waited a few seconds, her cheeks pinking she gathered her courage before speaking. "I could do you one better though; how about I cook you dinner at my place?"

Edward knew the invitation for what it implied and, as much as the annoying little voice was still nagging at him from the dark and distant corners of his mind, having breakfast with Rachel had made up his mind: he was going to do it. Literally. He was going to go because he knew it the best thing he could do. Rachel was great and being with her easier than he'd ever felt around a woman. Yes, this was a good thing. He'd be a fool not to jump on it.

"Sure, that'll work," he therefore answered, his wolfish grin letting her know he understood what she was saying. "At least…as long as you can cook." He winked, making it clear he was only joking, as he held the car door open for her.

She playfully whacked him on the arm, feigning outrage. "My skills are legendary, thank you very much!" She winked back, leaning forward to softly kiss him on the cheek before she slid into the driver's seat, her laughter lingering behind long after she'd pulled the door shut and driven off.

He watched her go before he got into his own car – well, his _rental_. His back groaned as he rested it against the driver's seat, his body suddenly acutely aware again of the strain it had been under for the last twenty-four hours, his eyelids were way too heavy to keep from drooping as he slowly and carefully pulled out of the hospital parking lot, willing his body and mind to cooperate. It was a good thing the drive home was so short.

On his way past the church he noticed a few early arrivers already gathering near the doors, trying to catch the attention of the parish priest who, on further inspection, appeared to be locked in an animated discussion with none other than James – Aro – Harrison.

As if on autopilot, his eyes started to search for that other familiar face, scanning the crowd until he finally found her small form, clad in white and murky pink, standing off to the side, her eyes never leaving her uncle's frail form as she stood guard. _Isabella_.

It was as if the unspoken mention of her name had somehow registered with her, the eyes that had been trained elsewhere suddenly snapping towards him and meeting his for what could only have been the most fleeting of moments before a tree obscured her from his view. A moment was all it took, though, to rock his newfound confidence on its foundations and make his doubt jump back to the foreground again. _Damn her! _

He sighed, knowing in the state his mind was in, there would be no stopping it from doing whatever the hell it wanted to, which seemed to be thinking of _her_. The _wrong_ 'her'.

He somehow managed to bypass the usual Sunday morning craziness on his way up to bed, his shoulders sagging with relief as he closed the door behind him and crossed the remaining gap between his bed and himself, shedding his clothes as he went until he crawled between the sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs.

_Heaven. _

He used the remote to turn on some music and closed his eyes, the soft background noise provided by the mellow, melancholy voice of Billy Holiday lulling him into the state he loved most; where you weren't quite asleep, but not completely awake either. It was almost the same feeling that drugs had given him; the sense that, no matter how fucked up his life may have been on the outside, on the inside of the bubble he'd created everything was fine. He still loved that state; the sense of drifting inside a warm, fuzzy cocoon that came with it, though rehab had taught him how to suppress the once dire urge to summon it by means of medication.

He wasn't allowed to linger in his state of bliss for long, though; an untimely and very annoying sound pulling him out of his nap before a full two hours had passed. He groaned, reaching blindly for the nightstand where the annoying sound emanated from, the display on his cell phone revealing a name he hadn't thought about for a couple of weeks, though he probably should have.

"Why didn't you call me?" The voice demanded as soon as he picked up. "I was beginning to fear you were lying under a bush somewhere, shooting heroine into your eyeballs!"

"Hey, Tan," he breathed, rubbing his eyes. His voice was still grainy with sleep as he spoke to her, making it sound like he'd been on a three day bender instead of one measly nightshift. He still had no stamina…

"Oh, fuck! You were sleeping," Tanya gasped and he could hear the sound of her bracelets tingling together as she clashed her hand over her mouth. "I should have known they'd have you running the graveyard shifts."

"S'okay," he mumbled, settling back against his pillows in a state of half-sleep. "So whadda ya want?"

"Just to catch up?" she replied. "It's been ages since we spoke. But of you want to get some rest I could call back later?"

"Now's as good as any time," Edward shrugged. It wasn't as if he was going to sleep anyway, not with the amount he'd already had coupled with the sounds of the outside world invading his self-created bubble. "So what's up?"

"Not that much," Tanya sighed. "Just work, Craig…the regular stuff."

Edward smiled. Knowing Craig, that regular stuff included all of the romantic 'candle lit shit' she loved and deserved, but, which he had never been able to give to her. Craig had always been the better man; the guy she should have shacked up with long before she finally decided to leave his sorry ass. God knew they went back almost as long as Tanya and Edward did.

"Any word on the ten-year?" He decided that to avoid the awkwardness that, regardless of the fact any regrets over the end of their marriage had long ago vanished, always seemed to ensue whenever Tanya discussed her current partner with him. He'd probably be much better off asking about work.

"Karlov gave it to Sandberg." There was some regret in her voice but not nearly as much as Edward would have expected. Hell, if it had been him, he would have been completely guttered. "He told me it was too soon, you know, after…"

"They held it against you?" He gasped for breath, already feeling the onset of a pounding headache and the glimmer of panicky sweat starting to break loose. _It was all his fault_. He'd lost the most precious thing in his life; they both had, and now Tanya's dream was crushed because of it – because of him – as well. "Fuck, Tanya. I'm so fucking sorry I-"

"Don't, Edward," she ordered him, her voice stern. "Don't you dare. You know as well as I do that it wasn't your fault, even if you're still too pigheaded to believe me. We both fucked up. I'm as much to blame as you are." She took a deep breath, slowly calming down again. "I've already got a great job lined up at this really good little private clinic anyway, so-"

This time it was Edward's turn to interrupt. "A _little_ private clinic?" His voice betrayed every ounce of surprise and disappointment he felt. _This isn't what she wants. _

"Don't be so fucking snooty, you little rich bitch!" Tanya chuckled, picking up on his feelings perfectly even with the distance between them. "It's not like I'll be turning tricks or anything. Private practice is a perfectly respectable place to be as a doctor; preferable even to the madness of a big hospital, if you ask some of us."

"But it's _private practice_," Edward deadpanned, "and given the fact that you haven't even mentioned the name of it, probably a very obscure little private practice. You know that's not exactly what you had in mind when you graduated from Harvard Med School." He knew he was being every bit as snooty as Tanya had accused him of but to them, practicing medicine had always been about compassion and an urge to help as much as reaching the highest levels of skill, position and fame within their world. Why Tanya would completely step away from the latter after all the hard work and sacrifice she'd put into her career completely befuddled him.

"Things change, Edward," she sighed. "People change. Besides, the offer's very good, especially when I'm looking at the big picture."

He frowned, shifting under his sheets as he tried to place her answer. "Huh?"

"I dunno." He knew from the sound of her voice that, had they been face to face, she would have shrugged. Being as it was, he just had to imagine it. "I'm getting married again, Edward, and…I don't know. Maybe other things will follow…" It didn't escape his notice how she was trying to not hurt his feelings or cause him to panic by not naming the other stuff. _Babies. New babies. Babies who aren't…Claire. _"I don't want to miss out on life because I'm working all the time. If anything, Claire taught me _that_."

It was a long time before he could talk, the confused emotions swirling around in his brain not giving him pause to even contemplate words. In his confusion he wasn't even sure if the overpowering feeling he felt was anger, jealousy, grief or happiness, though perhaps the truth lay somewhere in the middle. All he knew was that when he did speak, his throat was thick and his voice strained. "Yeah, she was always good at teaching us stuff we never even thought about." _Like the value of life and the pain caused by the loss of it. _

"Anyway." His sigh rumbled through the line, making him realize she was in every bit as much pain as he was at that moment. They'd both lost her. The fact that she was better at moving on didn't mean she didn't feel. "I was just calling to make sure you were still on the wagon."

"I am," he confirmed. "Thank God, I am."

"Amen to that!" Tanya chuckled. "So how are things in redneck country?"

"Now who's being snooty?" he snorted. "Things are fine over here. It's not that bad, actually."

"I'll believe that when I see it!" Tanya replied skeptically. "Any interesting cases?"

He smiled, settling comfortable in his pillows. "How long have you got?"

It was almost an hour later that they hung up; Edward now fully awake and Tanya completely informed about his mysterious patient…well, as far as she could be informed while he still upheld the privacy of his patient. He trusted her, but still…he knew the temptation of a case as big and rare as this one was. He'd never mentioned any names and had been very careful to avoid any reference to James' very alluring companion but, what he had done was get the second opinion he so much needed.

And Tanya's vision had been as helpful as ever, even if it was just the confirmation that he was on the right track. He didn't broach the subject of his conflicted feelings for Isabella and Rachel with her, though. As much as he needed some advice, he felt it was still too early to discuss his present love life with his past. Besides, he was too afraid of what Tanya would say – or rather, how fiercely she was going to chew him out – to even start about it.

In spite of the fact that he was alert, he still managed to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, waking up in the middle of the afternoon from dreams filled with Claire, her laughter still ringing in his ears as he slowly came back to consciousness.

He missed her. So much.

As he lay awake, listening to the birds and the sound of children playing in the distance, he pondered some of the things Tanya had said. Was she making the right choice? Had she been right when she told him that their careers had gotten in the way of life?

He didn't think so. But then again, what kind of private life did he really have these days? He was divorced, a recovering drug addict and living with his sister while he tried to get his career back on track. It wasn't exactly the picture he'd of back when he was a kid.

If he would have been given a second chance, would he have done things differently?

_Yeah_. The answer came unexpectedly easy, which was something that completely unnerved him.

When Claire had come into their lives, Tanya and Edward had gone on living much the same life they had before she was born, apart from the fact that there was an addition to their lives that had to be taken into the equation. Sure, they'd both spent almost every bit of down time at home with the baby where they would have hung out with friends before, but their crazy workload and never-ending shifts remained. And like with him when he was just a kid, Carmen had taken the most prominent position in their little girl's day-to-day care.

He hated himself and, in part, his job for the little time it allowed him to spend with his precious little girl but there had been nothing he could do about it, shy of throwing his complete education to the wind. He was an intern; someone who was supposed to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open.

He thought he'd had the time to make it up to her, later, when he'd earned his stripes as well as a lighter workload. In reality, though, he'd been no better man than his father. And the thought sickened him.

If he could do it all over again he would have quit the program without as much as a second thought. Medicine was in his blood, that much was true, but Claire _was_ his blood. His _life_. Without her nothing seemed as bright as it had appeared before.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he realized the truth in Tanya's words, his grief only heightening with the realization that if only he wouldn't have taken shit for granted, she would have lived. He wouldn't have fallen asleep and she would have still been the very healthy, happy little girl she had always been.

It was all his fault.

The rain slowly ticked against the windows as the soft voice of Sam Cooke sang about changes and optimism but he was too far gone to believe in it. He couldn't even begin to think about getting to some point in his life where dealing with the loss of his baby girl would ever get any easier, no matter how often his shrink might have said it would.

No, he was doomed to forever wander the face of the world; soulless and lifeless and forever sighing under a monumental weight that even Atlas would have crumbled under. Maybe that was why he loved being around Rachel so much, because she made everything lighter; the weight a little less hard to bear.

_He has to get out of his room_. He felt that familiar sense of restlessness creep up on him almost the second he'd voiced the thought in his head, his legs swinging over the edge of the mattress seconds later as he already tried to remember where he'd left his running gear. _A good workout will clear his head. _

Stepping out onto the first floor landing he became acutely aware of the fact that while he'd been upstairs, the family had returned from church and, by the sounds of it, not in the spirit of love and forgiveness.

"I don't want to go!" he heard Rosalie shriek over the muffled sound of people stumbling around one floor below. "I already have plans."

"I thought you were grounded?" Jasper snickered, his voice a little closer than that of the others. He was recovering well, still forced to take it easy for a while longer, but no longer in bed or housebound.

"Screw you!" His sister bit back. "Or better yet, take a fucking shower. You smell disgusting!"

"Rosalie!" Carlisle's voice boomed, the sound strengthened as Jasper walked out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the door open. The look of commiseration he flashed Edward on his way up made the older man chuckle.

"You okay?" Edward asked, seeing how the boy looked slightly frazzled.

"I'm fine," Jasper smirked, "though my head could have done without all of the yelling." He grinned before heading straight through to his room.

While he'd been talking to Jasper, he must have missed part of the conversation – or screaming match – going on downstairs because the argument had suddenly veered off in a different direction.

"None of this would have happened if I could have just kept living with mom!" Rosalie complained, trying to hurt her father where she thought it would hit the hardest.

"Then by all means, call her and ask her if you can live with her for a while," Carlisle countered, Edward detecting a slight undertone of exasperation beneath the calm of his voice. "Hell, I'll even let you use my phone."

_Good_. Edward smiled even though, from what his sister had told him, he gathered that Rosalie was in for a bitter disappointment. _It's about time that little bitch is taken down a notch or two, though. _

"Give it to me," Rosalie barked, the confident tone of her voice signaling that to her she was merely calling her dad's bluff. _She really has no idea._

Edward chose that moment to make a stealthy escape through the front door; the moment between father and daughter seeming to him to be one that didn't need any eavesdroppers listening in on it. Judging by the muffled slamming of a door as he stood on the front porch doing his stretching and the desperate wail which sounded from behind Rosalie's slightly opened window not long after, little Miss Cullen had been quite unsuccessful in her plans to move back to sunny California.

_Sunny California_. Edward smirked; feeling small drops of rain fall on his skin as he hopped off the porch. He wouldn't really mind being there himself at the moment, what with all the rain and wind he'd been pounded with ever since he'd set foot on Washington soil. _Forks really does live up to its name of being the most rainy, overcast town in the world. _

Edward cringed as the girl's cries were soon drowned out by angry rap music as Rosalie cranked her stereo up to the max. _This should get interesting. _

He didn't stick around to find out what would happen next, though, his feet already bouncing with eagerness to be on their way.

Luckily his workout gave him everything he hoped it would: peace, time to think and a burning in his muscles that made him crash back on his bed the minute he got back to his room, only waking up after a second three-hour nap as the sun had already set behind the trees. He finally felt rested, though perhaps slightly gross given the fact that he was still in his sweaty gym clothes.

He stripped, showered and jacked off, relieving some of the pent up tension that wasn't curable by running, before getting dressed and heading downstairs in the hope that things had somewhat calmed down in the meantime.

The kitchen, at least, was empty, his hands working the now familiar coffeemaker before opening the fridge in search of some leftover food while his coffee was brewing.

"I left a plate for you on the third shelve." Esme's voice trailed off into a chuckle as she watched her brother jump with surprise.

"Thanks!" Edward replied, a little shakily. "You want some coffee?"

She nodded, indicating her head towards the living room. "Join me?"

He quickly popped his dinner in the microwave, scarfing half of it down on his way to the living room before joining his sister in front of the TV, pretending to watch whatever drivel was on while polishing off his plate of food.

"God, you eat like a pig," Esme growled, cranking up the volume. "If I didn't know you, I'd think you were raised in a barn."

"How's the family?" Edward countered, grinning at Esme's smirk. "What? You finally snapped and killed the little witch and now the guys are outside burying the body?"

"You never did want for imagination!" Esme chuckled. "Jasper's upstairs sleeping and Carlisle took Rose out to see a movie in Port Angeles. You know? A little father-daughter bonding time."

"And you didn't feel the urge to join them?" Edward snickered, arching his brow.

"Not in the slightest!" Esme giggled. "I've decided that the best spot for me to be is somewhere down by the sidelines. Besides, they need to get to know one another better. With me hanging around…things get a little more complicated."

"How was church?" he asked next, cautiously sipping his coffee.

"Good. Rachel was asking about you," she started, a small smile arching on the corners of her lips. "So was Isabella Harrison, by the way."

"Oh?" Edward tried to play it off as nothing significant even though inwardly it felt like anything but. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, her brows shooting upwards a little as she gave him her most skeptical look. "I'm your sister, Ned, not your pimp."

"Oh," Edward repeated himself, hating the heat that rose to his cheeks. "Right."

"What's going on, Ned?" Esme didn't seem to be as satisfied by his very meaningless reply as he'd hoped. "I thought you were going out with Rachel?"

"I was," he nodded, "I mean…I am."

"Then why do I have Isabella trying to ever so casually get the four-one-one on you?" Esme's brows arched upwards a little more, though besides her amusement at the flustered state she'd rendered her little brother to, there was also some concern as she tried to figure out what kind of mess he'd landed himself in this time. Because she was almost certain this situation was going to end up messy. After all, her brother had an uncanny knack for screwing up his life.

"I dunno, Es." Edward shrugged, his eyes shooting to the floor. "Maybe she just wanted to know a bit more about the new guy who's treating her uncle."

Esme's eyes narrowed, her ears picking up on the lie even if her eyes wouldn't have caught his very guilty behavior already. "That's not what it sounded like to me."

Again, Edward shrugged, trying to save his ass to the best of his abilities. "Then you should ask _her_ but I think she'd tell you there's nothing going on. Just like I just did."

"That's bullshit, Ned!" Her voice rose an octave or two as she stared at him, letting him know she wasn't going to put up with some half-assed reply this time. "Now give me an explanation I might actually believe."

"It's just…I don't know, Es," he growled, his frustration bursting out as he slumped down on the couch. "I like Rachel and I really want to _like_ her…you know? But when I'm with Isabella she's just so… _Everything_ is just so…"

"She's a patient's _relative_, Edward." Esme interrupted him sternly. "Please, don't go there. Not after everything that's happened. It will _ruin_ you."

"Fuck, I know, alright?" he snarled, his hands wedging in his hair. "I know all of that, even without you lecturing me or your husband breathing down my fucking neck." He sucked in a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as he could, given the circumstances. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told him: nothing happened, nothing's going on."

"I believe the former," Esme answered, keeping a close eye on her brother's reaction. "The latter… not so much."

For a moment the siblings just stared at each other; Edward silently communicating what he couldn't or didn't dare to put down into words as Esme slowly put the pieces of the puzzle back together.

"Jeez, Ned," she finally sighed, the leather covering the chair growling as she flopped back against the backrest. "What a fucking mess!" Her words weren't spoken in anger, her eyes sad as she silently sipped her coffee, her hands cradled protectively around the cup. She wished she could protect her brother like that; protect him from himself.

"What are you going to do?"

He shrugged, his lips curling into a bitter smile as he stared back at her from across the room.

"There's only one thing I _can_ do, isn't there?"

The way he saw it, there really was only one rational thing to do: forget her. The problem was, though, that even though he hated to admit it, Edward was starting to find it harder and harder to actually _see_ reason.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter and some pictures of the woods surrounding Forks. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 14. **

_**The fight.**_

"You're late!" Rachel smiled as she playfully reproached him. "I was almost starting to think I was being stood up!"

_If only she knew. _Another wave of guilt crashed over him as Edward considered how close he had been to bailing. In fact, it had been the only thing on his mind as he'd sat there in the hospital parking lot for almost half an hour, trying to work up the nerve to either cross the street to Rachel's' driveway, knowing it would forever close the door on something that might be good.

_Might be good._ It was the whole problem he had with being there in a nutshell. _Might_ be, when he had the inkling something else _would_ be better.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled guiltily. "I was with a patient." It wasn't even a lie per se. He had, after all, been forced to delay his departure from the hospital when, fifteen minutes before the end of his shift, a guy had been brought in with a nasty gash to his left temple.

Not that it had delayed him for long, though, since Banner had taken over from him as soon as Edward had assessed that there was no damage done to the poor guy's brain. He'd only been five minutes late when he left the hospital. The rest was all on him.

"Well, come on in!" she urged, stepping aside to let him pass. "I hope you like Italian food? Pasta is about as far as my cooking skills go."

"Well, then you're lucky because I love it!" he grinned back, the tension and doubt slowly leaving his body now that he was face to face with the cause of them. She was just too easy to be around for him to worry about his own conflicted feelings.

_Yes, this is a good thing._ He smiled to himself, wondering how something so easy and seemingly effortless as spending time with a beautiful woman could ever get so complicated. It wasn't like it was rocket science or anything, just a couple of dates and the promise of sex-without-strings.

_Why is he even thinking about backing out? _His shoulders slumped again as soon as he'd asked himself the question, the answer popped up in his mind in the form of two brown eyes on a pale, perfect face. _Ah, yes. There's that. _

No matter how hard he'd tried over the past couple of days, even to the point of being rude to her at his weekly visit to the Harrisons', for some reason he just hadn't been able to banish her from his thoughts quite like he had been determined to. It was like the damn girl had wriggled her way into his brain, never to go away again, no matter what he did or how hard he'd tried to focus on Carlisle's words.

And even if there had been no Carlisle or James or career to take into consideration, he would have been crazy to even think about pursuing her. Not only was she about ten years younger than he was - which was only an estimate since he still hadn't seen any proof of her age - she was also the sole caregiver to a dying man, not to mention a woman who seemed to think that every word or gesture aimed at her was a challenge to prove how well she could handle herself, even if it was very clear that she couldn't. Besides, he knew deep down being with her would come with so many strings of attachment, it would be impossible to walk away when it was time for him to go back home.

No, he was doing the right thing by putting a stop to all of that malarkey before it got out of hand. Rachel was the one to go for.

_Rachel. Isabella. Rachel. Isabella. _His mind was spinning from his own indecisiveness; unable to let go of the thing it most wanted even though he knew it wasn't a viable option. No, he had to let go of the idea of Isabella and him. It would never happen. It _could_ never happen.

And as if to emphasize his decision, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, chuckling when she gasped with shock at his sudden action. "You taste like marinara sauce," he grinned, handing over the bottle of wine he'd only just remembered to pick up on his lunch break.

She fanned herself theatrically, though she would have been lying if she claimed to be unaffected by Edward's charm; the pounding of her heart so loud she was almost afraid he was going to hear it. "Well," she finally purred, her legs not completely steady as she trudged after him into her apartment, "feel free to have a taste any time you want."

Edward smiled, pushing the last of his gloomy thoughts out of his mind as he walked into Rachel's small but cozy living room, the smells coming from the adjacent, half-open kitchen making his mouth water.

"It's not much, I know," Rachel muttered, feeling slightly awkward as she caught Edward checking out her place. She knew a little bit of the wealth he'd grown up in and, though she was by no means poor, knew it was a far cry from the lifestyle she lived.

"It's better than any place I've ever lived," Edward shrugged, taking in the brightly colored wall hangings and small personal touches that Rachel had added to make the place hers.

"Somehow I find that awfully hard to believe, Mister Moneybags," Rachel snorted. "I bet in your last home the bathrooms alone were larger than my entire apartment."

"I can assure you, you're very much mistaken." Edward chuckled as he followed her into the kitchen. "I live quite humbly." Grabbing the bottle opener she handed him, he opened the bottle of wine he'd brought along before giving it and the opener to her.

"What? No Liberace-style diamond encrusted toilet seats?" Rachel fake-gasped, her smiling eyes flittering briefly towards his as she poured each of them a glass of wine. "I'm shocked!"

"Nope, no diamonds." Edward shrugged, taking the glass of wine Rachel offered. "It would have been pretty wasteful, not to mention stupid as hell, to throw away my whole paycheck on bling."

"I would have thought that to the son of the illustrious Edward Masen Senior, his meager salary was like pocket change or something," Rachel snorted, arching her brow as she added some more spices into the pasta sauce. "Some pittance you give to a homeless guy while you wallow in the luxury of your cushy eight figure trust fund."

"Nah," Edward shrugged, playing it off light though in reality he always felt quite frustrated when people were quick to make assumptions about him just because of who his father was. "My dad and I don't exactly see eye to eye. I don't want anything from him, especially not his money."

"Good for you," Rachel nodded, clinking her glass to his. "Not a lot of guys would have done the same if they'd have been in your shoes."

He shrugged. "I'm not like 'most guys', I guess."

"No," Rachel smiled, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach as her eyes made contact with his. "You're definitely not." She turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce and only stopping to take small sips from her wine until the timer went off on the pasta.

Edward leaned back, watching her bustle about in the kitchen with a smile on his face. If he needed any more proof of the rightness of his decision, he had it right there. "Do you need some help?" he asked, feeling rather guilty for leaning back and sipping his wine as he watched her. "I'm not that good in the kitchen but I guess wielding a kitchen knife can't be much different than handling a scalpel, can it?"

"Do I have to explain the difference between an onion and a human being to you?" Rachel joked, handing over the knife so that she could drain the pasta while Edward finished slicing the tomatoes for the salad. "Not good in the kitchen, eh? I'm disappointed."

"Don't worry," he immediately countered, flashing the grin he knew was most successful with the ladies. "I more than make up for my lacking kitchen skills by being very talented in other rooms of the house." He winked, his ego getting a huge boost as he noticed that his words had the desired effect on their audience.

"Is that a promise?" Rachel quipped, though where her words were teasing, her voice was breathy and her eyes darkened by lust.

He merely shrugged, popping half a cherry tomato into his mouth. "Perhaps."

They kept up their light flirtatious banter throughout dinner, only relieving the building tension by discussing stuff about work or their lives before they met, only to go back to teasing the minute the opportunity came.

Yet as much as he shared about his life, he didn't tell her much, not about the important things at least. He told her about Tanya except why they got divorced. He told her about his work at St. Mary's, however, not about why he chose to leave for a small, nameless hospital in the middle of nowhere. He told her about his family, but not about Claire.

It felt wrong, too personal, to let her in on the deeper aspects of his life. If he would have searched his soul a little deeper he would have known that she – _Rachel_ – felt wrong; the wrong girl at the wrong time. But he didn't. As long as there was food on the table and teasing to lighten the fact that he blocked every attempt of her to get to the deeper waters of his soul, he would be content. He _wanted_ to be content.

"So…" Rachel let her voice trail off suggestively as she spooned the last bite of store-bought chocolate mousse into her mouth, making sure the angle of the spoon emphasized the fullness of her lips. "What do you want to do next?"

"I dunno," Edward smiled, leaning back as he scratched his full stomach. "I guess I should help you do the dishes, right?"

She shrugged. Doing dishes was about the last thing on her mind at that moment, not to mention one of the most unwanted ways for their date to come to its conclusion. "I'll do that tomorrow. Do you want to hang out for a while?"

"Sure." Edward nodded, groaning as he got out of his seat to follow her to the comfortable corner sofa. "You would have thought that by my age I would have learned not to overstuff myself like a fucking Thanksgiving turkey, wouldn't ya?"

She grinned, shrugging as she cozied up to him, her head leaning on his shoulder as she rested her hand on his pecs. "I guess I should take that as a compliment on my kitchen skills?"

He chuckled, the movement making her raise her head again to look at him. "I guess you should."

He knew what she expected and, to a point, he was more than willing to even give it to her. He was a guy after all. But still, as his lips touched to hers, the panic was back; that same feeling that had made him sit in his car for half an hour, wondering what the hell he was doing. And, more importantly, with who.

His body still performed; the dance so common his lips or his hands didn't need his mind to kiss or feel, especially not when they were so eager and she was so pretty. _It has been so long. Too long. _

"Hmm, you really are better outside the kitchen," she chuckled, coming up for air, her body sneakily easing even closer to his until she was so close she was almost sitting on his lap. "What other rooms do you perform in?"

He knew it was wrong, he knew it _felt_ wrong, but still he went along with it, his mind screaming at him every step of the way. "Well, that depends on what room you want to see me in?" he crooned, his voice low and husky and garnering just the kind of reaction he should have been aiming for. But he wasn't.

"Come on," she smiled, tugging him along as she got up from the couch. "Let me show you around."

There was no doubt about where they were going. From what he'd seen, the apartment wasn't that big and so unless she had a desperate urge to show him her bathroom, the bedroom was definitely where they were headed. And it completely freaked him out.

Rachel, unaware of his inner panic, leaned seductively against the bedpost, her hand trailing along the wrought iron foot of her bed. "So, how good do you think you're going to be in here?" On any other guy, the low, husky tones of her voice would have worked, but on Edward, they only served to underline his panic.

Part of him still wanted to go along with it. It was the selfish part; the part of him that craved the kind of satisfaction he hadn't felt ever since his marriage had gone sour, the kind that wanted to forget the madness around him as it sank into soft, warm flesh and found distraction in the arms on another. The kind that was still denying his true feelings….

It was that part which slowly moved towards Rachel, his steps no longer self-assured and his smirk lacking the cockiness it had sported before. Instead he looked like a high school freshman, called into the principal's office for the first time.

Rachel, quick to pick up on his change of mood, frowned, her two feet back on the ground as she put a cautious step in his direction. "Is something wrong?" Looking at him she was starting to get the awful suspicion that maybe her evening wouldn't go as she hoped it would but at that moment, worry still overclouded the frustration that thought might have made her feel if it hadn't been for the look of devastation on Edward's face.

"I…I…" he stammered, still battling his own mind until finally he had to concede victory to the more rational part of his mind; the part that had been nagging at him all along. "I don't think I can do this." He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he trudged back to the living room, his feet halting as he debated to make a run out of the door or stay and explain himself. "I'm sorry."

"Wha-" Rachel started only to have understanding dawn on her face in the middle of her question. "It's _her_, isn't it?"

Edward paled, his whole body tensing in panic as his eyes shot up to hers. _Does she know? How?_ "W-what do you mean?" Could it be that he hadn't been as stealthy about his conflicted feelings as he thought he had been? Had he unwittingly dropped something to make her realize the unlikely competition she was facing, even if he was reluctant to admit that he even had feelings Isabella in the first place?

"Your wife," Rachel explained, watching with a growing curiosity as Edward's shoulders seemed to slump in relief. "Your _ex_. You still love her, don't you?"

Edward nodded, only feeling half the guilt and self-loathing he should have felt over his lie. It was for the better, for both of them. At least, he thought it would be. "I'm sorry, Rach. I wish-"

"Let's not do this now," Rachel interrupted him, backing away to put some distance between them until her back was against the wall. "Or even better, let's not do it at all. I think we both understand what's going on here."

"But-" His second attempt at explaining himself was as quickly shushed as his first; the awkwardness mounting as they stood on opposite sides of Rachel's living room.

"I'm a big girl, Edward," Rachel muttered, willing her eyes not to drop their tears until he was out the door. "I can handle rejection just as well as the next girl." She shook her head, willing herself to remain calm as she lifted her eyes to his. "What I don't need, though, is to go over the technicalities right now. You're still hung up on your ex-wife, which is okay. I may not _like_ it but I _get_ it." She sighed, her shoulders faintly rising as she tried to shrug it off. "Let's just forget this ever happened."

If Edward hadn't already thought of himself as one of the most selfish, despicable human beings on the planet, he would now. She deserved someone so much better than him. She deserved someone who would be with her for who she was, not for what she could offer his troubled mind. "Okay," he sighed, his hand closing around the doorknob. "If you want…I can do that. Will you be okay?"

She somehow managed a faint smile as she looked up at him. "I will be. Big girl, remember?"

"Of course." He too forced his lips to curl upward as he managed one final glance at her, his heart hurting for the pain he'd caused as he looked at her. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

_And this, right here, is why they always warn you not to get involved with one of your co-workers._ Rachel sighed as she barely managed to suppress a smirk. "Yeah, I guess so." Inwardly, however, she was already starting to think of who she could call to cover her shift.

Edward, meanwhile, was walking back towards his car with lead shoes, the knowledge that, in spite of the pain he had caused Rachel, he'd done the right thing, though, not giving him nearly as much relief as maybe it should have.

_Or maybe not._ He grimaced, thinking about the hurt look on Rachel's face just before he'd backed the fuck out of her bedroom. What he'd done...no, there was no being proud over 'doing the right thing' because all in all his behavior had been despicable, even if he'd never intended it to be.

How selfish could a person be though? Dropping listlessly into the driver's seat of his rented Volvo he sighed deeply, his hand rubbing his face as he tried to get his act together. In all of his considerations, he'd only thought about himself, his own pleasure and needs, about how he could benefit from a stingless fuck with a nice girl. He'd never thought about how he was stringing one woman along in a desperate attempt to push another out of his mind.

Not Tanya. _Isabella_. And yes, there was his other reason for thinking back on the past couple of hours with nothing but shame. Not only had he selfishly led Rachel to believe he was interested in her when, looking back on his dealings, he had never really been into anything but friendship with her. He'd also used his ex-wife as an excuse to break things off. _If Tanya would hear of it, she'd rip his head off. And she has every right to do so._

Shaking his head he started the car, his usual calming music doing nothing to make his shoulders less tense of his mind less frustrated. No, there was no escaping what he'd done; not within the solace of his music, not through excuses and certainly not in avoiding the whole situation.

"Dammit man, how stupid can you be?" he growled at himself, his hands clenching around the wheel as slowly self-reproach gave way to anger. "She's a fucking colleague, for goodness sake! Wasn't the first lesson they taught you in med school; never to shit where you eat? _God_!"

Venting helped, his mood slightly calmer when he pulled into the Cullens' driveway, the house bathing in light as he sat in his car for a few more moments, composing himself to the point where he was fairly sure he could withstand his sister's scrutiny.

He should have thought better of it, though; his sister's keen eyes immediately picking up on his mood the minute he tried to sneak in through the kitchen door. "You're home early!" she remarked, her voice casual and light, though her eyes were anything but.

"Yeah," Edward mumbled, trying to duck under her radar by keeping his eyes firmly on the floor. "Things didn't really work out the way I thought they might."

Esme didn't press the matter, knowing instinctively not to bug her brother about it. Not that she was willing to drop the matter entirely, though. No, she was quite determined to get to the bottom of it, just not yet. "That's a shame," she offered, smiling sadly. "I'd hoped the two of you might hit it off." She sighed, watching as her brother shrugged like a petulant school boy. It was then she knew that he'd been the one to put a stop to things. And she had a pretty good hunch as to the 'why' of it.

_Later_, she told herself. She reminded herself that patience was the way to go with Edward. So she pulled herself back into a lighter state of mind, grabbing the huge bowl of popcorn she'd come into the kitchen for. "Do you want to join us in the living room? I think we finally managed to find a movie all of us like. Even Rosalie, believe it or not."

"I never thought I'd see the day!" Edward joked, though his smile didn't reach his eyes and his shoulders remained stiff with tension. "I'll pass, though. I'm wiped out and I promised Alice I'd call her today."

Esme nodded, knowing an excuse when she heard one. "Then you'd better, because if I were Carmen, I'd have the girl in bed by now. That is, unless she and dad are living it up at some snooty party and are leaving the poor girl to decide her own timetable."

"_Es_," Edward warned, "cut it out! Your inner bitch is showing." Part of him could understand his sister's bitterness towards Carmen who, after all had broken their family apart even more than their father's coldness already had. Still, to him, she had been the only one, apart from Esme, who'd giving him any sort of real affection during his childhood; the only real parent he'd ever known, even if Carmen hadn't been all that much older than he was. "You _know_ Carmen's a better mom than that."

"Sorry," she shrugged, not looking very sorry at all. "I know you like her and all that, but I just don't think she and I could ever get along. We don't have the kind of history the two of you share."

"You seemed to get along well enough when it came to securing my place here," he countered, remembering what the two of them had told him about their joined efforts to secure his place at Forks General, get him licensed to practice medicine in Washington and get the in-crowd at St. Mary's to accept their carefully constructed plans. Sure, his father's money had done most of the talking, or so Edward assumed, but to get it all done? It would have required a lot of teamwork.

"Desperate times, Ned," Esme shrugged, grabbing fresh drinks from the fridge and balancing them on top of the popcorn. "I'd better get back, though. We've managed to keep the peace so far but I'm afraid that if they pause the movie for much longer the body count in the living room is going to rival that on the screen. And mind you, we're watching _Kingdom of Heaven_ for crying out loud."

"Yeah, you'd better get back in there." Edward chuckled, shaking his head as his sister disappeared through the door, his ears picking up on the sounds of swords clashing and people shouting as he wandered up the stairs, shedding his work clothes as he entered his rooms, unbothered by the fact that his expensive suit would be all wrinkled from the way he idly dropped it on the floor behind him.

He groaned, only feeling how tired and worn he was as he stretched out underneath his sheets, the added benefit of not making the bed meaning that he could just slip back in without having to bother with turning the sheets down. _Why bother with all the extra work when all of it will only go to waste the minute you actually want to use your bed for what it is made?_

The rest he was yearning for did not come, though, not even after an almost hour-long conversation with his little sister about fashion trends and boys, both of which he had a very fixed opinion about. Where her voice and constant babbling cheered him up as long as they were both sounding in his ear, the tension came back the minute he put down the phone, making him toss and turn in his bed as the hours slowly crept by.

By the time the sun started to rise on the horizon, he was so pent up and frustrated that he could only see one way out of his mess: run it off.

He hadn't been out there for a while now, the thought of running into Isabella again like he had that morning keeping him back. Or, more accurately, the effect seeing her dancing around so freely in that damned clearing had on his mind, among other parts of his body, on alert.

He'd missed it though, the freedom of running through the forest; the wind pulling at his clothes and the freshness of early morning invading his system with every breath he took. Somehow working out at the gym never felt quite as satisfying as an early morning run, no matter how much he was starting to enjoy the company of Emmett on his visits. The boy was smarter than he gave himself credit for and through him, Edward had learned more about the local community than he ever wanted to know.

Quickly donning his sports gear he made his way downstairs, this time bypassing his family successfully before tearing off into a frenzied sprint the moment he was out the door, not wanting to take the risk of someone trying to engage him in conversation he was clearly in no shape to conduct.

The track was barely lit, the trees whooshed by as he pushed his body to the limit, his lungs burning and muscles screaming for relief by the time he slowed down. He gasped, bracing himself against a tree as he tried to catch his breath, not realizing he wasn't alone until the sound of a twig snapping right next to him scared the shit out of him.

"Jesus!" he gasped, his breath still coming in pants as he turned around to look at his intruder.

"I was hoping I might run into you." Isabella acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, her smug grin at making him jump immediately kindling Edward's anger. "I have to admit I'm slightly disappointed with the infrequency of your early morning runs. Don't you know the effect of exercise is wasted when you don't follow through with it?"

His eyes narrowed as his frustration over what had happened with Rachel the day before. He found an outlet now that a more than suitable scapegoat had popped up right at the opportune moment. "Well," he sneered, "maybe that has something to do with the fact that I get disturbed every damn time I'm here."

She arched her brow in silent mockery, her voice every bit as sharp as his as she replied. "It didn't look like I was disrupting anything just now. Other than you wheezing like a grandpa." She shrugged. "As to the other time…I seem to remember that it was _you_ disrupting _my_ peace and quiet. Not the other way around."

"I don't have fucking time for this!" he snapped, his fists clenching by his side at the coolness of her voice as she put him into place like he was a fucking five year old. He'd never hit a woman but damn, if something wasn't going to happen real soon, he'd have to hit _something_.

"That's just your problem, isn't it?" she countered, quickly maneuvering in his path, cutting off his only way forward on the narrow track. "You don't have time for anything these days!"

"Is that what this is about?" he snarled, his eyes fuming as they glared into hers. "Is this about me not staying for fucking tea and biscuits the other day? Well, I had shit to do at the hospital."

"Of course you did." Her smile only added fuel to the fire as she met his anger tit for tat. "You're such a big, hotshot doctor…it would be foolish of me to think that you could spare a few minutes of your precious time with an old fruitcake and his obedient little slave, even if the old man had been looking forward to your visit all fucking week!"

The anger flashed from her eyes made him subconsciously take a small step backwards; the fury unexpected and, quite honestly, scarier than a tiny woman had any business being. "Personally, I don't give a fuck whether or not you show up at all..." She paused, her chest heaving as she sucked in a few sharp breaths, "but when you piss off the old man, he turns my life into a fucking hell and _that_ is something I don't feel all that happy about."

"So this is all about _you_?" Edward mocked. "I should have known."

"Don't make this into something it's not," she growled, and for a moment Edward almost thought she was going to slap him, his feet scrambling backwards to put a safe distance between him and her. "This is about how you can be all caring and wanting to be our friend one moment and acting like a cold bastard the next."

"Which is the kind of behavior you've never been guilty of," Edward spat back sarcastically, enjoying the way her cheeks changed color as her expression briefly flashed from anger to guilt. "Your fucking mood swings are enough to give me a whiplash!"

She quickly regained control of herself, though, her small fists were trembling by her side as she met his gaze, looking calmer than she had before. "You need to decide what the hell it is that you want, because I'm not letting you near James again if all you want to do is confuse the guy. His time on earth is short enough as it is without you throwing your shit into the bargain."

This time it was his turn to look guilty, knowing that she'd had a point. He had been negligent in his care for the man lately; not that he was going to admit to it, though. "I'll make sure he gets all the care he needs."

"No," she countered, her eyes narrowing as she tried to stare him down, "that's _my_ job. You're just here to take the credit for it."

The air cackled around them as they stared, the only sounds heard being those of birds, trees and other natural inhabitants of the forest as Edward and Isabella fought out their silent screaming match. After a while, though, something changed; the battle no longer being about James and their mutual disagreement over his care, but about something else, something intangible….something _dangerous_.

In the intensity of their stare down, they hadn't noticed how they'd both crept closer to one another until Edward's raised hand was hovering over Isabella's blushing cheeks, both their eyes widening as they realized what they were about to do as panic made them jump backwards.

"Then go do your damn job and stop harassing me!" Edward growled, his anger back in full force as he all but ran from the scene of the would-be mistake, the sound of twigs snapping cuing him into the fact that Isabella was probably doing the same. What the hell was going on? Had he really been on the verge of, what…_kissing_ her?

He didn't slow down until he was back at the house, not trusting himself to look back or even think about what had nearly happened until he'd sprinted past a baffled Esme and found himself in the security of his own rooms.

"Edward?"

"Fuck!" he yelled, making his sister jump as he turned round, his eyes wild and his nostrils flaring. She'd never seen him like that, not even in his darkest hour right after Claire had passed away, and she would have been lying if she didn't admit that it scared her to death.

"E-Edward?" she stammered, only allowing herself a much needed breath as she watched him slowly return to his usual self; the feral look on his face seeping out and being replaced by the brother she knew and loved.

"Sorry, sis," he sighed, running a hand though his hair as he sagged down on the bed. "I didn't mean to bark at you the way I did. It's just…I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Are you sure you're holding up, Ned?" she asked, her voice still a little shaky from the shock. "If it's starting to be too much, I could always ask Carlisle-"

"I'm managing," he interrupted her, though his body language contradicted him. "I had a rough couple of hours, that's it."

"If you say so," Esme sighed, not believing him one bit, though she really didn't have another choice. "I just came up here to give you a message." Edward looked up, his eyes still remorseful as he waited for her to go on. "Carlisle called while you were out. He'd just been over to the Harrisons for a quick visit this morning and asked me to pass on a message from James. He was wondering if you'd like to join him and Isabella for dinner tomorrow night."

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_**Uh-oh. Do you think Isabella will take revenge for Edward's assaholic behavior in this chapter? **_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter as well as some other pictures and songs. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 15. **

_**The dance.**_

"You _are_ going, right?"

Edward didn't even have to look up from the chart he'd been updating to find out who the hopeful, though slightly commanding voice belonged to. Instead he just settled for a nod, finishing his additions to Harry Clearwater's status before finally looking up. "That's the plan, yes."

There were few things in the world he was looking forward to as little as his impending dinner at the Harrison's – especially after what happened earlier that morning – but, as a doctor, he knew it was a chance at studying his patient and it wasn't very likely he was going to get a second invitation.

"This is a great opportunity, Edward," Carlisle mused, his thoughts obviously having wandered along the same avenue. "And a very rare one to boot. I don't think James Harrison ever entertained thoughts of inviting _me_ for dinner and I've been his acting physician for months."

Edward smirked, his ears picking up on a distinct undertone of jealousy in his brother-in-law's voice. "I think he sees me more as a house guest, or a pet monkey even, than as his doctor, though. He still hasn't let me examine him other than the stuff I can find out by observing him."

"He will." Carlisle's voice left little room for doubt. "I'm almost certain of it."

Before Edward could ask him how the hell he could be so certain when all Edward had been able to achieve was that now the patient didn't seem to think he was a bad as his father was – progress indeed – their conversation was cut short when Edward's pager went off, alerting him that the patient he'd spent most of his morning patching up after a nasty burst appendix, had once again taken a turn for the worse. "I'd better get going," he muttered, already halfway to the Intensive Care Unit before he'd completed his sentence.

It had been like that for most of the day, the good citizens of Forks apparently having decided that the rainy Wednesday would be the perfect day to venture out on slippery surfaces, start doing odd jobs around the house or just wake up sick to their stomachs. Edward had never seen the surgical unit quite that busy before, which was a good thing, really, because it kept his hands full upstairs so that he could spend his whole shift without running into Rachel down in the ER.

His shift running late, he only made it home in time for a quick bite to eat and a few hours of vegging out in front of the television with the rest of the family before nodding off into that kind of deep, dreamless sleep you only managed to get when the previous couple of nights had been really dreadful.

The next day started out early, with his shift starting well before sunrise, but turned out to be a lot calmer than the previous day. Either all the sick and needy of Forks were already stuck in a hospital bed, at home recovering or it had just been a one day fluke; one of those days you sometimes encountered in the medical profession that made you wonder whether you might have been better off choosing some boring desk job. Like, for instance, the running of a mega corporation.

Edward smirked, wrapping his stethoscope around his neck as he closed his locker, the halls still bathing in silence as his footsteps squeaked along the linoleum as he made his pre-rounds.

As expected, most of the patients were still asleep, allowing him the chance to quietly assess their progress or, in some cases, lack thereof as he made his way from bed to bed, reading charts and casting glances at bare skin for traces of infection, jaundice or other signs of trouble but, mercifully, finding none.

"You're up early." He jumped, the chart dropping noisily to the floor as the patient he'd believed to have been deep asleep turned out to be awake and talking to him. Thankfully he was down to the last few rooms; the only ones in the hospital made for just one single occupant.

"God, Mrs. Brown, you scared me!" he gasped, ducking down to grab the chart off the floor.

"A girl in my position's gotta do something to get a good look at a nice ass like yours every now and then," the old woman – Mrs. Daisy Brown – chuckled, noting with no small amount of joy how her blunt remark brought a twinge of blushing embarrassment to the young doctor's cheeks.

"So you did this just to check me out?" Edward, quickly recomposing himself asked. "If you wanted to take a look, you should have said so." He smirked.

"And you would have bent over to let me have a looksie?" Mrs. Brown arched her brow, looking rather stern for such a sweet old lady all of a sudden. "Do you think I was born yesterday, Doctor Cullen?"

"Your chart tells me otherwise," Edward joked, going against everything Carmen had told him about never teasing a woman about her age. "Though, of course, you don't look a day over twenty."

"Psah!" she snorted, grabbing her sides as her body convulsed with giggles. "You should know better than to make a dying woman laugh like that!"

"And here's me thinking laughter was the best medicine?" Edward countered, his focus back as he let his eyes glide over the last additions to the chart. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better now that I have someone to distract me," she replied, the lines on her face showing just how much she was suffering. "So, doc, how long do I have? I'm starting to think my kids are getting a little fed up having to visit me every day."

Edward sighed, knowing the Browns wouldn't have to 'sacrifice' their valuable time for much longer if the stats were to be believed. Hell, just one look at her and he knew she'd be lucky to see the end of the month.

She'd been a permanent fixture on his rounds ever since he started out at the hospital; a terminal cancer patient who'd elected not to go home to spend her final days in her own bed because she 'didn't want to bother her family' but refused to go into hospice care because it would take her away from the town she'd been born and raised in; the place she was determined to die.

She suffered greatly, her organs slowly giving out as she lost her battle with the disease, though she never showed it, not even when everyone around her knew she had to be in a shitload of pain. When he'd asked her how she did it, how she managed to still crack jokes even with her face yellow from the onset of liver failure and her steady morphine drip the only thing keeping her from crying out in pain, she'd told him that she 'just didn't see the point in spending her final days on earth all mournful and cranky' when she should be making the most of every moment she had left. There were times when he could see how much strength it cost her to stick to her resolve; times when he almost wished he could do something to end her suffering.

_Is this how Isabella feels whenever James is having a bad day? _

His mood darkened at the thought of the woman who'd put him through so much difficulty but even so, his mind couldn't let go of the thought. He was a doctor; someone who dealt with life and death on a daily basis and with a whole team of people who went through the same kind of shit he did. She _wasn't_. She was just a girl. _She must feel so alone at times. _

"Chin up, doc," Mrs. Brown smiled, her eyes showing a kind of resolve he was in awe of. "I've had a blast these seventy years I got to spend on earth, but now it's high time I get to meet my maker."

He didn't really know what to say to that. 'I hope that happens real soon' seemed wrong, even if they both knew the woman was praying for an end to her pain, and cracking jokes seemed horribly out of place, though maybe his patient would have preferred it over seriousness.

"Don't you have other patients to harass? Or are they all still asleep?" Mrs. Brown, nearing the end of her strength, joked, hoping the young doctor would pick up on the hint and leave her be for a while. It wasn't that she wanted him gone or anything – in fact, she preferred his company over many of the others who visited her, including some of her family – but she didn't know how much longer she could keep up the charade.

Edward smiled, looking at his watch for good form. "I should be heading out for rounds."

"Oh, goody!" Mrs. Brown fake-huffed, "so instead of just your pitiful ass, I'm going to have a whole room of doctors fawning over me in just a minute? Great!"

"And here I thought you liked all of the attention!" Edward joked back, touching her hand with his for a brief moment before he slid the chart back into place.

After a final shared grin, hers tensed with pain and his with worry, he made his way back to the front desk where Maggie was already waiting, her frazzled look telling him the peace and quiet had been a rather new development.

"I see you've started to make rounds on your own?" she remarked in a tone that left him unable to find out if she was pissed off, amused or just indifferent.

"I like to be prepared," he shrugged, "so that I can use rounds to get the specifics instead of just the broad picture."

She nodded, looking slightly impressed, her lips curling into a smile when Doctor Banner – who was never early – finally joined them. "I'm still trying to decide whether you're really this driven or if you're just brown-nosing."

"What, Cullen?" Banner butted in, fumbling with the nametag on his doctor's whites. "He's just trying to do what comes naturally to him: upstaging the country doctors."

Maggie sighed, rolling her eyes as she took off, leaving her younger colleagues with no other choice than to hurry after her as she kicked off rounds.

The day went on as it started; quiet and almost boring. Edward didn't really mind, seeing as the rush of the day before had left him very much behind on his paperwork. As the end of his shift started to get close, the hours were dragging more and more. And it wasn't even as if he was looking forward to his free evening.

"You're off in a rush." His footsteps came to a sudden halt midway across the main downstairs area as he almost bumped into Rachel on his way out. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me."

He swallowed, wondering what she'd say if he admitted part of his hurry had been just about that. "I'm on my way to a dinner invitation."

"Got another hot date lined up already, huh?" she teased, chuckling when she noticed how Edward's Adam's Apple rose and fell with yet another labored breath. "Relax, Edward! Carlisle already told me all about your dinner plans."

"He did?" Edward frowned.

"Of course he did," she shrugged. "This is a small-town hospital. Gossip is just about the only thing that holds us together on quiet days like these. I'm surprised Mrs. Brown hasn't grilled you about what happened between us yet."

"What makes you say she hasn't?" he quipped, relaxing slightly at the seemingly normal way she was treating him. _Easy._ Just like everything else. He wondered why it still surprised him.

"Come on, Edward!" She snorted. "If she had, you definitely would have taken the back exit."

"Yeah, you might be right about that," he chuckled.

"Well, go on, get out of here!" she playfully swatting him in the direction of the door. "I don't know that patient of yours all that well, but from what I've heard about him, he's quite a stickler for punctuality."

"Shit!" Edward gasped, looking at the clock. _He's officially running late._ Flashing Rachel an apologetic look, he all but sprinted for the parking lot, knowing he still had some sprucing up to do before he could withstand James' exacting scrutiny. He would be lying, though, if he didn't admit that part of his rush to get out of the hospital had something to do with getting away from Rachel. Things between them might not have been as awkward as he'd feared but that didn't mean they weren't awkward at all.

He arrived at the Harrison's with only seconds to spare, panting for breath after a short sprint from his car to the front door. And what do you know? Isabella even spared him a smile, though be it a very sarcastic one, as she opened the door.

He would have made a scathing comeback if he hadn't been so stunned by the look of her. "You look…"

"Like a freak?" she finished, before he had the chance to. "I know. It's all the old man's doing, I assure you."

If things between them had been in a better place, he would have told her, to him at least, she looked about as far removed from a freak as any woman could get. She was beautiful…_so beautiful_; her hair pinned out of her face by two delicate clips and her skin almost translucent against the pale pink of her dress and shoes. Forget Mona Lisa, she looked like Snow White; hair as dark as ebony, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow and_….oh fuck, he's turning into a girl again._

"I…er…." He growled, pissed off by the way the words he'd so carefully weighed and rehearsed in the car wouldn't come out.

"What?" she scowled, sighing dramatically as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You'd better say your peace and be quick about it. The old man's waiting for us."

He shook his head, his hands balling by his side as he tried to refrain from barking back a scathing reply. It wouldn't do him any good to have his apology follow another round of insults. "I owe you an apology for my behavior the other day," he spoke quickly. "I'd had a rough day the day before but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She looked a little taken aback by his words, as if it were the first time anyone had ever apologized to her. But, all too soon, she fell back into her old and trusty line of defense, the snark sneaking back into her eyes as she smiled ruefully. "Don't worry about it. Sticks and stones and all that." She shrugged. "I wasn't exactly the first time someone used me as a punching bag and besides…it's not like your words left me emotionally scarred or something."

"Oh." It was all he could say, her words, their meaning and the cavalier way she'd spoken about being used as someone's punching bag leaving him once again completely astonished.

_What the hell has happened to her? _A chill set into his bones as he thought about what she said. In that moment he wanted to kill whoever had hurt her in the past almost as much as he wanted to take her away and make sure none of that ever happened again. _She should only be loved. Loved and cherished. _

"Don't." His eyes snapped up at her sharp words, hers flaming with anger as he met them. "I don't need or want your pity. Forget I told you anything." She turned, the skirt of her dress swishing against her legs as she set off into the house at a brisk pace, not waiting for him.

His face fell into a scowl as he followed her, crossing the now familiar distance between the front door and the sitting room. Just when he was close to putting his ridiculous infatuation out of his head, she went and showed up looking like an angel; a very visceral and sensual angel.

"Look." He almost bumped into her as she stopped just short of the living room door. "I know you're all dressed up for dinner and all but if you wanna go in there only to ignore him like you did last Wednesday, I'd rather you turn around and went home right now. He may not be easy to live with at times but he's all I've got and I'll be damned if I let him croak a second before he has to."

"Refined as always," Edward smirked, amusement sparking as he watched her face morph from fierce to frustrated. It was only then that he became earnest again, hoping his face would show the truth of his words as he continued. "But don't worry, I have no intention of adding to your uncle's problems."

It was all she was going to get in the way of an apology but judging by the look on her face, it was enough; her eyes narrowing as she studied him before opening the door with a faint nod of her head. "He's expecting you."

She brushed past him, a faint whiff of something flowery lingering behind as she slipped through the kitchen door, leaving Edward to entertain the patient on his own.

"Doctor Masen!" James cried out, his eyes lighting up as he watched his guest enter the room. "I am so glad you could join us this evening. Come!" His arm gesticulated wildly, or as wildly as he could get, given the state of his body. "Come sit with me and keep me entertained while we wait for Isabella's summons to dinner."

Edward sat obediently, taking the club chair opposite James' usual window seat. "I was very happy to be invited, Mister Volturi," he spoke, choosing his words well. "How are you today?"

"I am well," Aro was quick to reply. "I may not get as much writing done in a day as I used to back in my heyday, but I have every confidence I will get to finish this book in time."

Edward nodded, trying to take it all in. This had been the most his patient had ever divulged about what he was up to during the day and he was pretty anxious to find out more, even if he had only the faintest idea of how to go about his task without playing into James' paranoia. For instance, he had a feeling that asking about the contents of the book would probably not go over well, since that opened up the possibility of espionage. "You intend to finish another novel?"

"Of course I do!" James replied, as if it was the most normal thing for a dying, mentally crippled man to do. "It is what defines us as writers. The only thing which bothers me is that editors these days harass us creators with almost impossible deadlines." He shook his head, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Take for instance the young little upstart who holds the reins on _my_ artistic freedom." He leaned forward, his voice lowering as if he was afraid the 'upstart' was going to hear him all the way back in her east coast office. "She seems to think I can create a genius masterpiece – the one that will make all my previous works pale in comparison – in the course of mere months. Does she know how long it took me to write _Deep Water_?"

He fumed, allowing himself only seconds to catch his breath again before he continued his rant. "It is because of people like her, sucking the originality out of all of us poor, overworked creators, that our craft is dying a slow and embarrassing death."

"But you will finish your novel, Aro?" Edward, eager to get the conversation back into less dangerously emotional waters, offered. "And it will be good, yes?"

"Dear boy." James sat back again, smiling smugly now that his mind was engaged again in more pleasurable ways. "It will be the best thing you've ever read in your life."

"I am sure it will." Edward smiled back, the two of them sharing a moment of confidence that was disturbed by the arrival of Isabella, her hips swaying as she pushed the door separating the kitchen from the living room open, a whiskey glass in each hand. It was a tantalizing sight and one Edward had difficulty pulling his eyes away from, though he knew he had to. He couldn't risk being noticed by James.

"As your doctor, I think I should point out the adverse effects of alcohol on…"

He was stopped by James' raised hand. "Do not trouble yourself, my young friend, I know them all." He smiled, accepting the glass Isabella offered him, his eyes closing with delight as he took a small sip, the glass shaking in his hand. "But what is life without a little vice every now and then? Truly, you would not refuse an ailing old man a little pleasure?"

Isabella's stern look would have dissuaded him from every form of opposition even if his thoughts had lingered in that direction. "I would not dare." He smiled back, raising the glass Isabella all but threw his way. "To what shall we drink, then?"

"To art?" James suggested, his brows furrowing into a light frown as he watched Edward swirl the amber liquid in its glass. "I hope whiskey is alright with you? I just assumed because….But I could always get you another drink if you'd prefer one."

"Scotch is fine," Edward was quick to reply, taking a sip from his glass. "No, strike that; this one is more than fine."

"I always make sure to be treated to nothing but the best," James replied smugly, his hand patting Isabella's as she glided alongside him on her way back to the kitchen. "So tell me, Doctor Masen, what brings a talented and obviously educated young man like you to a sleepy little place like this? I cannot imagine you'd pick Forks over Chicago just for its variety in greenery."

"No," Edward smiled uncomfortable, "I didn't." For a minute he was unsure and almost in a state of panic. He knew the old man probably wasn't going to stop his fishing trip until he had a satisfying answer to his question. He didn't last time, even though Edward still hadn't given him the answers he needed, and Edward knew he wasn't going to stop digging this time until the old man had what he wanted.

Though he could have easily fed his patient a lie, Edward somehow felt that he would be skating on very thin ice if he did. After all, little lies could so easily snowball into big ones and before you knew it, you'd be in deep trouble.

"Then what did bring you out here?" As he'd expected, James was as persistent as a blood hound, his eyes keenly peering into Edward's as he studied the young doctor.

"If you want the truth…." Edward let his voice trail off, searching for the right words; the ones that would reveal enough without saying it all. "I encountered some problems at work and the long and short of it is that I was advised to take a sabbatical so that I may work through my…_issues_."

"Hmm." James' eyes narrowed, never stopping their intense scrutiny as he ruminated on Edward's words. "That sounds unfortunate."

Edward chuckled. "Imagine having to live through it all! I can assure you that, had I not regretted my actions before, I'm inescapably aware of my wrongdoings now that I have become aware of the enormity of their consequences."

James nodded, his eyes far away as he stared into the dark of the bare windows. "It is always afterwards that mankind finds how disastrous a small misstep can be."

"You speak as though you've had some first-hand experience with it," Edward wondered.

"You know about what ails me, right?" James' voice was level and almost emotionless as he started off, his eyes still on the darkened forest. "Well, imagine growing up completely unaware of the ticking time bomb your very body holds inside of it. Imagine falling in love and taking your girlfriend for a first trip to meet your parents only to be told the horrible truth of your heritage, and the deadly disease that had run rampant among your ancestors." He sighed, his hands clenching white as he held onto the armrests of his chair. "Then imagine your beloved telling you she is with child only days after you have been handed a tentative death sentence and knowing that the religion you have both been raised in refuses you from taking the action you know in your heart may be the right one."

Edward sat, stocked still and completely rattled by the weight of the moment in the wake of the man's words. Not only had James just admitted to being sick, he also told him things about his real life – the life he'd _escaped _by coming to Forks – that Edward knew he probably hadn't shared with anyone but his companion. _This is huge_.

Finally James' eyes settled back on Edward, weary and beaten down with the weight of much regret. "I have had to live with the knowledge that not only did I have a fifty-fifty chance of survival but I had unwittingly passed that same curse onto my children."

"Is that why you moved away?" Edward, who knew instinctively his patient wanted his sympathy at that moment, asked.

He nodded. "I could not bear to face them, nor let them see firsthand, the fate that might befall them."

"But, Aro, why _this_ life? Why draw away from the world entirely and retreat back into a long lost history?" It was the one of those things that had been coming back each time he thought about the life James had chosen for himself and Isabella.

"Maybe the real world isn't that worthy of engaging with," James shrugged, his hand trembling violently as he brought his glass back to his mouth. "These days it seems that the only thing people seek anymore is distraction; in loud music, shallow diversions and faceless conversations. I do not want any part in that."

"You dislike popular culture?" Up to a certain degree, Edward could see what the guy was saying. Sure, he saw the advantages in communicating with his family through Skype and cell phones and, unlike so many other lovers of 'older music', he did not think the introduction of CDs and digital re-masters had robbed the music of its soul. But, on the other hand, he had never felt the urge to share his inner musings with the rest of the world in under one hundred and forty characters or post his private life all over some networking site.

"Dislike it?" James chuckled disbelievingly. "I hate it almost as much as I fear the consequences of what it's doing to our souls." Again something shimmered in his eyes, the spark of a deeply felt passion, as he leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you not think the government is behind this? That, if they keep us dumb and despondent, they will get us to agree to whatever underhand schemes they are cooking up, just because we have become too stupid to even realize we are being tricked?"

No, Edward had never even given a moment's thought about it but, though he knew very well that James' somewhat far-reaching theory stemmed from the disease which was slowly taking over his brain, he knew that coming up with a well thought out answer was vital to preserve his good standing with the patient. Trouble was, though, he didn't know what to say.

Mercifully, Isabella chose that exact moment to come in and announce dinner was served in the dining room; their progress to the adjacent room moving at a slow pace as James cautiously put one unsteady foot in front of the other.

Edward noticed how Isabella remained within catching distance at all times, though not even when he wobbled dangerously as he tried to cross the threshold from the one room into the other, did she step in, her stern look telling him to do the same.

James looked a little winded by the time he sat down in his seat at the head of the long and elegant dining table, but he didn't let it deter him from launching straight back into conversation. "The food looks lovely, Isabella." He smiled adoringly at his niece who daintily draped her slender body on the seat to his right. "I'm sure it will taste just as well."

"I have to agree," Edward was quick to add, his mouth watering at the rich, fragrant smells coming from the closed serving dishes. "You keep a good table here."

"It was one of the things I wasn't willing to compromise on when I set out looking for a companion," James nodded, his hand reaching out for Isabella's over the crisp, flawless white damask covering the table. "I do not enjoy store-bought meals, so whoever took the position would have to rise above your average home chef."

"I make everything from scratch," Isabella added proudly, holding up a bread basket for Edward to take one of the freshly baked and intricately shaped rolls. "Most of the vegetables are grown in the backyard where we can both keep an eye on them and know our food has not been tampered with. If it hadn't been for the fact that raising cattle would have made such a mess of the garden, I might have even tried my hand at butchery."

Edward wasn't sure whether she was for real or just joking, though it was clear that James was taking everything she said as fact, his smile widening as he patted the back of her hand. "You see how good my Isabella cares for me?"

"I wish we all had someone like her," Edward smiled, sharing a look of understanding with the woman across from him. "You are very fortunate to have found her." He knew Isabella would have no problem picking up on the slight undertone of sarcasm in his voice he wasn't able to stop himself from adding, though his words were no lie. She did appear to be a very accomplished and devoted nurse to her patient.

James nodded. "Who would have thought that a girl as coarse and uncivilized as Isabella was when I first met her, would turn out to be such a diamond in the rough?"

_That was the second time he's referred to picking his companion._ Edward focused his attention on picking at his bread, his preoccupation with the little sesame seeds on top of it justifying the slight frown on his forehead as he mulled that little piece of information over and combined it with some of the other things he'd learned about James and his mysterious nurse.

Was she really his niece, as they both claimed she was, or did Isabella happen upon him in some other way. But how? And why? She seemed too young to have already completed any sort of medical training and, in spite of her many accomplishments, Edward didn't really take her for the type who would advertise herself as a private caregiver. But then who was she?

_What's her story? _

He sighed, finally plucking a small bite of bread free from his roll and bringing it to his mouth. He was no closer to figuring her out than he had been the first time he entered the house. And he was afraid he never would be. Why that thought bothered him so much was a question he wasn't ready to address, though.

"Doctor Masen, would you do the honors?" James looked at him expectantly as Isabella raised the lid on a magnificent looking roast beef, her free hand sliding a carving set his way.

_Oh dear Lord give me strength._ Edward swallowed with difficulty, trying to remember his father's techniques as he sliced the Thanksgiving turkey into perfectly shaped slices, suitable for an elegant table. _Carving a roast beef couldn't be that different, could it?_ He had the feeling this was another test, and one he wasn't as likely to pass as the challenges on art and medicine he had previously faced.

James watched him saw away at the poor unsuspecting cut of meat with the pleasure of a man who knew he had one up on his competition, even though it had been a long time since his arms had possessed the strength to perform the honors, or his mind the ability to control his action.

"Enough, enough!" he chuckled good-naturedly when Edward had thus hacked his way through most of the meat. "I do believe the poor animal has suffered enough for one day!"

Edward blushed, feeling like a berated schoolboy as he distributed the meat, his eyes narrowing as he caught Isabella's amused smirk from the corners of his eyes. _He should have known she would find pleasure in his embarrassment. _

Fortunately for Edward, the rest of dinner passed without further incident; the conversation staying light and easy as they ate their food. Most of the times the men dominated the conversation, with Isabella playing the role of the obedient early twentieth century housewife and staying in the background, though when asked she wasn't afraid to give her own unique view – though most of the time it was a rephrasing of James' – of the matter at hand.

All through their meal, Edward couldn't help but let his eyes wander over to the quiet, demure figure across from him at the table, his eyes following her slender fingers as they cut her food, brought her water glass to her mouth or performed any of the other mundane tasks that people engage in at the dinner table. In her, though, they seemed to have a fascinating quality that made it unable for him to look away, even though he mentally berated himself time and time again. He just _had_ to look.

"If you do not watch television, how do you spend your evenings?" Edward asked as he followed James back into the living room for coffee while Isabella cleared away the remnants of their meal.

"I read," James shrugged, his movements even more hampered than they had been going into the dining room. "Or rather, I let Isabella read to me. That way I can take in the words even better than I would if it had been my own eyes lifting them from the page and Isabella gets to work on her diction and comprehension of literature as we discuss the words." He leaned in, his eyes flashing to the closed kitchen door to ascertain that he would not be overheard. "You should have heard her when she first came to live with me. It was simply atrocious!" He shuddered, his face relaxing in relief as he slumped back down in his usual chair.

"On evenings when neither of us feels like reading, we listen to music," James continued.

"Of course." Edward smiled, knowing he should have seen that one coming. Somehow their conversation would always revert back to music.

"In fact," James spoke again, "I wonder if you would oblige me and switch on that gramophone in the corner." He chuckled when Edward's eyes grew to the same size they had been when he had first been presented with his carving utensils. "It is a lot easier to operate than it looks, I can assure you."

By the time the first soft tones of piano music rolled from the archaic music device, Isabella was back in the room, pouring coffee.

"Ah, _Debussy_." James sat back with his eyes half closed as he savored the dulcet tones. "This music brings back so many memories…of garden parties I attended with my parents when I was a child, watching the grownups dance, wondering when I would be allowed to join them…." His eyes took on a look of longing as they fixed on the ancient record player, the languid tones Debussy's _Arabesque_ still filling the silence. "It is one of the few things I intensely miss about my old life; the joy of watching people dance."

"Then maybe Isabella could oblige us both," Edward suggested, his lips curling up in amusement at the baffled look on the poor girl's face. "Will you dance with me?"

James' eyes lit up in excitement. "Excellent!" he gushed, suddenly looking as giddy as a school boy.

"I-I'm sorry." Isabella bit her lip but Edward wasn't quite sure whether that was in embarrassment or in pure, blind hate. "I don't dance."

"Nonsense, dear!" James was quick to admonish her, the sharp look he sent her leaving no room for further opposition. "Any respectable girl your age should know how to dance. If you don't, I'm sure Doctor Masen can be prevailed upon to teach you, can you not, my dear friend?"

"It would be my honor, sir," Edward answered, though he was starting to feel slightly guilty about the position he'd put Isabella in.

"Very well, then," Isabella sighed, graciously jumping to her feet as she reluctantly placed her hand in Edward's.

"Excellent!" James repeated himself, watching with rapt fascination as Edward directed his girl to the middle of the room, while the gramophone switched to _Claire de Lune_.

Edward cautiously took Isabella's hand in his, making sure to keep his eyes on her face at all times to gauge her reaction, but getting no further than 'royally pissed off' with that. "Relax," he urged her.

His words seemed to miss their mark, though, only fuelling the rage which was already so abundantly visible in her large, brown eyes. "Are you doing this just to let me make a fool out of myself?" she hissed, her hand squeezing his almost to the point of pain.

"Don't flatter yourself," he muttered back, trying to suppress the feelings having her body so close to his stirred up inside of him. "I am only doing him a favor. Besides..." He waited until he had her attention again, her eyes capturing his as he moved the two of them around the room cautiously, the with a little more flair. "... you have nothing to worry about. It's all in the leading. See?" Her eyes widened as she realized that she was, in fact, dancing and quite graciously too, without even realizing.

For a moment he was completely swept away, realizing how perfectly her body fit against his and how right it felt but, most of all, feeling only then how stupid he had been to think he could just wish away the strength of the attraction he felt towards this strange little woman and project it onto someone else. It had been betrayal, blasphemy of the blackest kind.

"Well, I'll be damned," Isabella muttered, pulling her dancing partner out of his silent reverie. "I'm really dancing."

"I told you so." His lips pulled into a confident, half-smirk as he even got her to twirl once, before her legs got caught in each other and she fell back into his hold.

The song was a trying one to dance to; the classical rhythm he would have admired in every other circumstance lending itself very poorly to waltz or foxtrot; the two dances his mother had so painstakingly drilled into him in order for him not to make a fool out of himself at the usual upper-class social functions and formal gatherings.

He made do, though, swaying her body from left to right as they maneuvered around the room, the moonlight casting an almost magical shadow over them as Isabella slowly started to relax in his arms, her lips losing that angry tension and her eyes gazing back at him with what almost could be construed as admiration.

"Not that bad, is it?" he chuckled, forcing himself into idle chitchat before he could get swept away on something he had worked so hard to resist.

"No," she breathed, her hand slaying on his back as her body finally gave up its last resistance. She blushed as a small, shy smile appeared on her lips. "I think I might have been too quick to judge."

Edward had the distinct notion she wasn't talking about the dance, the weight of her implications settling on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he once again reminded himself of the dangers of giving in to his feelings. The problem was his rational side was fighting a lost battle. "It's always easier to fight than to surrender," he finally admitted, his voice hoarse with barely restrained emotion.

Her eyes widened, her fingers digging into his back as she let his words sweep over her, twisting and turning them over and over again until they had given up every last ounce of their meaning. They were on the edge of something. Something _big_.

"W-what do you want from me?" she whispered, her eyes vulnerable and fragile as they connected with his.

His lips pressed together, not in frustration but in resolve as he finally made up his mind. "I think I'm tired of fighting this," he admitted, his thumb caressing the palm of the hand entwined with his. "I'm tired of fighting _you_."

They both would have said so much more in that moment, had their bubble not been burst by the ending of the song and the enthusiastic applause their little performance had garnered from its audience.

"Bravo!" James cried out, the force of his movements almost knocking him out of his chair. "That was quite magical, my dears. Quite magical indeed!"

Isabella blushed, her eyes lingering on his for a moment longer before she averted them, her hand slipping from his as slowly but surely her defenses rose again. "Doctor Masen is quite the teacher," she admitted, crossing the distance between herself and her uncle to settle him back into a more comfortable position while Edward just stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

All he knew for sure was that they had crossed a bridge that night, one he still wasn't quite sure he should have crossed. There was no going back, though. Even if he would somehow manage to close the lid on his feelings again, he knew the connection that had been made between them could only be broken at their own peril.

He was _in_ now… one hundred percent.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**It's my birthday today and I can't find a better way to celebrate than with a new chapter. As always, Bella's outfit can be found on the blog. I also posted the amazing artwork for this story, made by LadySharkey1 and Ange de l'Aube. Go check it out. You can find a link on my profile. **_

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 16. **

_**The epiphany.**_

"You have to give him props for perseverance, though!" Edward's mood darkened even more as he heard Royce chuckle over Rosalie's grumbled response. "The other day I even heard him telling Tyler he was thinking about trying out for the baseball team next season. There's nothing the guy won't do to get into your pants, babe!"

Edward knew he probably shouldn't be listening in on Rosalie's private conversations with her boyfriend but considering that they were sitting in the den, right outside the kitchen where he was and talking rather loudly, he didn't really have another choice but to eavesdrop. Besides, they were talking about someone he cared about. Emmett.

He'd been seeing the kid quite often, between his regular visits to the gym and Emmett volunteering at the hospital a couple of afternoons every week, and every time it struck him just how bright, determined and underappreciated the boy was. In his family he stuck out like a sore thumb; his still quite scrawny physique and books cleverness a stark contrast set against the gruff, mountain man looks of his father and brothers. At school he had some friends, mostly among the tree huggers and the other bright kids but most of the time, he was alone. Edward had yet to determine whether it was by choice or by force of circumstances, though he suspected the latter.

"Ugh!" Rose groaned and he could hear from the rustling of clothes and furniture that she was inching even closer towards her boyfriend. "I wish that loser would just get the hell away from me. He's like some kind of annoying stray dog following me around all day!"

"I don't know, sugar," Royce chuckled, the sound of his malicious laughter making the hairs at the base of Edward's neck stand up on end. "He might be useful if you play your cards right."

"What do you mean?" Edward leaned in, not wanting to miss a word of what would come next, if only to protect Emmett from the likes of that rat bastard skulking in his sister's house.

"He's good at the science stuff isn't he?" Royce callously informed.

"I guess so," Rosalie answered dismissively. "I hardly ever pay enough attention to the guy to notice his grades but Mr. Seaford always seems to salivate whenever that little creep speaks up in class."

"Well, considering that you're this close to flunking…" There was a small pause and Edward suspected that Rose was quietly making her displeasure at being called out on her defect known. "Have you ever considered using him to pass the class?"

"What do you mean?" Confusion was ripe in Rosalie's voice where Edward, already fully caught on to what Royce wasn't saying, was starting to see red. _How dare that disgusting, little asshole…_

"I'm sure if you played your cards right, you could get Emmett to do _anything_ for you," Royce went on, his voice emphasizing the words of importance, "including your homework."

"Are you saying I should whore myself out or something?" Her voice sounded indignant as slowly the pieces of the puzzle started to click into place in Rosalie's mind.

"Not quite." Edward could hear Royce was running out of patience, his voice picking up a distinct note of frustration as he tried to get the girl where he wanted her. "Just give him a few smiles, tell him he's smart and all of that shit and then, when he's so hard for you he's almost seeing double, carefully let it slip how much trouble you're having with some subjects…"

"Okay." Rose still sounded reluctant but judging by the sound of her voice, Royce had somehow managed to win her over. "But I don't have to sit with him at lunch or anything, do I? I'd die of humiliation!"

"I don't think it will come to that." Royce's confidence was soaring as he reassured Rose. "The guy's been drooling all over you for God knows how long even though you've never given him the time of day. Trust me, he's going to be happy with every bone you throw him."

"I hope you're right." Rose grumbled.

"Of course I am." Royce sounded indignant at the mere insinuation of him being wrong. "Now get me a drink, babe? I'm parched."

Edward knew the jig was up even before Rosalie walked into the kitchen, freezing immediately when she spotted him at the table. He couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty for eavesdropping, though. Not when he'd overheard something which might potentially crush his young buddy's feelings.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she spat, not feeling any obligation to be nice to him with both her parents out of earshot. It was how it had been ever since Carlisle increased his dad-time; she was nice as long as she knew word would get back to her dad but when she felt it wouldn't? She was like a zebra never losing its stripes, even though she may have painted the rest of herself to match.

"I live here, remember?" Edward sneered back. If he hadn't already been cranky from the combination of a long night shift and the impossibility of catching up on your sleep when there were road repairs going on just outside of his bedroom window, what he'd just overheard would have more than done the trick. "Or is there a law against drinking coffee in the kitchen between the hours of three and six in the afternoon that I didn't know about?"

Royce, wanting to know what the ruckus was about - or just wondering where the hell his drink was - sauntered into the kitchen, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his girlfriend's annoying relative. He made a mental note do some checking up on the guy who was starting to turn into the most annoying kind of cockblocker he'd ever met. _Who knows? Maybe it will turn up some good dirt and keep the guy out of his business._

"What's going on, babe?" he asked, his arm wrapped around Rosalie's waist as he glared at Edward from across the room.

"It seems Esme's brother gets off on spying on us." Rosalie's lips curled up in disdain as she spat out the words.

"Spying on you?" Edward chuckled darkly. "I was here when you got in, remember? If you want to discuss your nasty little secrets, you'd better make sure you check to see if there's anyone around or at least keep your voice down."

"So what? Are you going to tell on me again? Just like you did with Isabella?" The way she spoke her name made him want to slap Rosalie right in her pretty little face in spite of his strong opinion on violence against women.

"No." His jaw clenched as he answered her, wishing nothing more than to make life impossible for the little snake. "But don't think I will forget it either."

Her eyes narrowed, though confusion at his words shone through as she tried to stare him down. Then, when after a few tense and uncomfortable moments she surmised that she wasn't going to get anything out of him, she huffed, shooting him one final glare in parting before she turned on her heels. "Come on, Royce. Let's go outside where we can have a little more privacy."

Royce leered at him with a sinister little smile that reminded Edward of a movie he'd once seen about an axe murderer before he followed his girlfriend out onto the back porch, his hand dangling over her ass as if to stake a claim.

_Charming_. Edward rolled his eyes, the tension slowly slipping from his shoulders as he turned his attention back to his paper, noticing with a look at the clock that he should get going if he wanted to make it to the hospital on time for his next shift.

He smiled, noticing how his days at the hospital were already starting to develop into a routine again when, so few weeks ago, turning into the hospital parking lot had been as new and exciting as it had been his first day as an intern. It was strange how quick his mind had forgotten about rehab and all the fights and struggles preceding it.

Yet there he was, half an hour later, navigating his way across the lot to the obscure staff entrance with no difficulty at all when, on his first day, he had been that close to climbing in through a window.

"Getting lost again?" He jumped, hearing the sound of Rachel's voice behind him, her amused grin greeting him when he turned towards her. "I thought you were so smart and all that. Ya know? Being a fancy, big city doctor after all?"

"You know what they say about looks being deceiving," Edward joked back. "But no, I wasn't lost. I was just contemplating the idea of climbing in through the window for a change."

She frowned disbelievingly. "And that's better than being lost because…"

"It's more creative?" he offered, quite taken aback with the way he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. And even more so with what that meant.

"I have to give you that!" she nodded smilingly. "So? How's it going? Done avoiding me yet?"

He balked, feeling the blood draw away from his face. _Has he been _that_ obvious? _"Just about," he forced out, managing to save face as best as he could.

"Good." She grinned back. "Then can we please start acting like grownups again? This game of hide and seek we've been playing is really starting to get old."

"I couldn't agree more." Edward grinned back, following her into the hospital just as he'd done on his first day there; though his circumstances had changed considerably in the meantime.

"Just so you know and don't hear it from someone else…" She paused, sounding rather awkward as her voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm going out with Paul McCarty tonight. He asked me the other day and I thought…well, I might as well go since there's nothing holding me back."

_Wow! Talk about moving on fast!_ Even though at that moment relief was the dominant feeling, Edward's pride couldn't help but be hurt by the quickness with which she'd forgotten about him. Though he guessed that had its benefits as well.

"That's…erm…good?" he managed to breathe, scratching the back of his head as he tried to think of a suitable way to react.

"I think it is, yes," she nodded, smiling innocently. "He and I go way back but for some reason we never really spoke even though we were in the same year at Forks High. He's Emmett's oldest brother."

"I hope it works out for you," Edward spoke, both his voice and his feelings genuine as he smiled back at her. She deserved someone better than the asshole he'd been to her and if this Paul guy was anything like his younger brother, he would be sure to take care of her.

"So how about you?" Rachel wondered, sliding her purse in the small compartment underneath the nurse's desk. "Any developments?"

Edward balked, feeling even more reluctant to talk about the state of his own affairs than he had been when Rachel opened up about _her_ love life. If things had been different between them, he might have told her about the way Isabella had felt in his arms when he led her in their dance or the fact that he hadn't been able to shake the feeling – that sense of belonging and…and needing to be with her forever – ever since, even though it was three days ago.

He might also have shared that ever since he'd stopped fighting his attraction to the strange, mysterious woman he knew so little of, she'd taken up an even more permanent residence in his mind than she had been when he was still battling to keep her out; keeping his cock at half-mast for the better part of the day as his hands relived the memory of her skin to his touch and his mind added a different chain of events than the one their evening had taken. A train of events that had escaped from underneath James' all-seeing eyes and Isabella writhing in pleasure underneath him as he drove into her over and over again.

But he didn't, because as happy as he was that things between Rachel and him appeared to be as closer to normal as they could be, he was fairly sure that she wouldn't understand. No one would.

So he shrugged in answer to Rachel's question, deciding to continue using the lie he'd given to save himself. "Not really. She's over me I guess. She's still getting married to her new guy next spring." It wasn't even a lie, well not technically at least. Tanya was getting married in the spring to a guy time times more worthy of her than he'd ever be. _She's moving on. _

"That sucks." Rachel smiled compassionately as she clipped her nametag in place.

"Nah," Edward shrugged, "I had my chance and blew it. I should have known better." Again, not a lie but not the complete truth either. Catching Maggie's look of disapproval from the corner of his eye gave him the perfect way out before he dug himself even deeper into the hole he'd created. "I'd better leave you to your work."

"Good luck today," Rachel nodded, grabbing a chart as her face slowly morphed into that professional neutral look she always sported when she was with her patients. She'd told him that it was the only way she could look at the people she'd known almost as long as she'd been alive in an objective way without letting the fact they were sick and hurting get to her. Regardless of the fact doctors and nurses generally shied away from treating people they had close ties to since it would be impossible to remain objective when treating your own sister or the father of your childhood friend, in a town as small as Forks everyone kind of knew each other, or at least knew _of_ each other.

He did just about the same, trying to distance himself from the patients he was treating and only thinking about what ailed them and how he could make it better, except that for him it was easier since he didn't know most of the people very well.

He was on call for the ER, not that it meant he would have much of a disruption to his routine since the day seemed to be a particularly slow one. It did mean that, later on in the afternoon, he got the chance to speak to Emmett who was clocking in some hours as a volunteer.

"Nice uniform you got there, kid." He chuckled as Emmett's cheeks blushed a shade of red that matched his cherry colored scrubs.

"It's okay, actually," the boy shrugged. "I used to hate it but then I heard that a hospital in Seattle makes their volunteers wear pink and white stripes. I'm counting myself lucky."

"It's a good job for picking up some experience," Edward, remembering what Emmett had told him about his future plans. "It will look good on your application to college."

"That's what I'm hoping," Emmett sighed, "though I'm sure I'm not the only one who thought of this."

Edward nodded, knowing the kid was probably right. "So how's school going?" He was hoping this line of conversation would give him the chance to stealthily warn Emmett about what Rosalie and Royce were planning.

"Okay, I guess," Emmett muttered. "My grades are good."

"And the other thing?" Edward kept his voice cautious, not wanting Emmett to feel pressured.

"The same," Emmett sighed dejectedly. "I've been doing what you told me. You know? Trying to just talk to her and be her friend? Sometimes she talks back, when nobody's looking, but the other times…." He shrugged, averting his eyes. He didn't want his new mentor to see the pain in them.

"These things take time," Edward encouraged him, "but you have to be careful, though."

"You mean about the pushiness?" Emmett frowned, wondering what could be pushy about trying to befriend a girl by being nice to her.

"That and other things," Edward answered. "You know, there's a fine line between being a girl's friend and letting her walk all over you, Emmett." As he spoke, he was watching the boy's face intently to see if his words were hitting their mark. "Don't let her cross it."

"You mean letting her take advantage of me?" Emmett's frown deepened as he thought about Edward's words. "I'm not a girl!"

Edward chuckled. "There's more than one way to be taken advantage of." He knew he'd said just about all he could say at the moment; more would only push Emmett away. He knew even without testing his theory, Emmett's adoration for Rosalie was so strong that he would never believe it if Edward told him the truth. "Just remember my words, kid."

Emmett nodded solemnly though Edward could see already the kid would have a hell of a hard time standing up to Rosalie. He knew the feeling all too well. His obnoxious step-niece, strange as it felt, was Emmett's kryptonite, just like Isabella was his.

_Isabella_.

He sighed, his mind drifting off as it was transported almost immediately back to the dance they shared and the moment of understanding which had passed between them. It had been all there was; just a look, a shared knowledge that they were both beyond ignoring whatever freaky business had sprung up between them. It was nothing and yet, at the same time, it was _everything_. One of those time-stopping moments where all the pieces of the puzzle suddenly slipped into place, creating a perfect vision of what your life should be; what your life _could_ be.

He couldn't remember ever having felt the same way about a woman before, except maybe about Claire but that didn't count since his bond with his little baby girl was a completely different one. Not even Tanya, the woman he'd been with for years and who had taken his own name for the better part of those years, had stirred such strong emotions in him.

It scared him and, at the same time, he couldn't wait to see her again. _Talk to her….hold her…_

It was frustrating to know his time with her was limited to stolen moments during his visits to James but he knew better than to force his way. Carlisle been lenient when it came to his relationship with Rachel, Edward knew better than to expect a same kind of behavior in this case. Even if he hadn't been forewarned, Edward knew better than to openly pursue a patients' close relative; one who had power of attorney over all of the patients' medical decisions, yet that seemed to be exactly where he was headed.

And then there was the patient himself. Edward had never been bold enough to inquire with James whether or not he was open to Isabella receiving 'gentleman callers' but seeing the way the man seemed to lay claim to his beautiful companion whenever Edward came over to visit, he somehow doubted James would look favorably upon a request to court his niece.

It basically meant whichever way he had looked at it, Edward was screwed, and not in any sort of way he'd enjoy.

"Hey Edward?" He looked up from his thoughts at the sound of his name to see Rachel heading over to where he was standing.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded more wary than perhaps the situation between the two of them required but, even though most of the weirdness that usually came from failed relationships seemed to be miraculously absent, he couldn't help but be very careful is all his dealings with the girl.

She smiled, dropping a chart into the tray as she picked up another, her voice casual as she spoke. "Aren't you close with the Harrisons?"

_Does she know?_ Edward could feel the blood drain from his face as he tried his best to react normal. "A little. Why?" His voice was slightly higher than usual and the words sounded awfully rushed but if Rachel noticed his discomfort, she didn't show.

"A girl just came into the ER with a bleeding left arm," Rachel explained. "I couldn't see her very well but I think it's that girl that takes care of the older man. What's her name again?"

"Isabella." Edward somehow managed to keep his voice straight though this time his inner turmoil wasn't caused by his fear of being found out or even the possible awkwardness of having Rachel and Isabella in the same space. No, it was fear for his girl, _his Isabella_, which had him working hard to keep his composure. "Are you on the case?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nicole is. She just took her through to an exam room."

Edward didn't stay to give thanks to Rachel for the heads up or even indicate that he'd heard what the girl had said, his feet taking off in a pace just below a jog as he marched through the ER, checking all available spaces for signs of the one face he was determined to find.

When he finally found her, though, his anxiety soon cindered into an irrational anger as he peered in through the open blinds of the exam room, not only did he see Isabella sitting on the bed clutching a bandage to her left arm as she gave Nurse Beckett the lowdown on her medical history, but hovering all over her like a bad rash was no other but Jacob Black.

He growled – yes, he actually _growled_ – as the little punk moved in a brushed a loose strand of deep brown hair behind her ears, the gesture being overly friendly for someone he had never seen near the Harrison's house or heard any of its inhabitants speak about.

Besides, he already disliked the guy for the hard time he gave Edward over his ride when he came to pick up the Volvo. His eyes narrowed as he recounted the unfortunate incident, the smug grin on the guy´s face as he handed him the keys to what he claimed to be a ´middle-aged woman's car´ still stinging, not matter how many very pleasant hours he'd spent behind the wheel since then. _Middle-aged woman, my ass!_

"Doctor Masen!" Nurse Beckett looked up from her work, seeming pleasantly surprised by his speedy arrival. "Did you get bored or something?"

"Or something," Edward replied, somehow managing to choke out a smile as he leered at the little pest standing over _his_ Isabella. "Let's see what we have here."

He couldn't help but notice how Jacob shifted in his place, his shoulders squaring and his eyes narrowing as he unwittingly picked up on the fact that his competition had just walked in. _The boy doesn't know. There's no way she told him._ Edward reminded himself of what he knew for a fact as he assumed an air of confidence. Whatever the boy might have gotten into his head, any assumptions he'd made had to have been based on insecurity as opposed to fact.

"I was just wrapping up the paperwork," Nurse Beckett, instantly shooting back in professional mode fired off as she took him through all of her observations so far. A lot of the information was already known to him, the chart, or at least the important parts in it, fixed into his memory from the last time she'd been there. Still, the wound she sported this time looked serious.

"How did this happen?" he asked, directing his question to Isabella instead of the nurse.

"She cut herself while cleaning vegetables," Jacob answered before she could say anything. The look on his face told Edward that he wasn't being helpful as much as staking a claim on the lady, his knowledge of what had come to pass

Isabella seemed to like his intervention just about as much as Edward did, her lips pressing into the hard line Edward knew so well, her displeasure rolling off her in waves as she glared at the boy standing next to her. "I can answer my own questions, thank you very much."

Edward couldn't have stopped the smile on his lips even if he'd wanted to, the poor smug bastard looking as if she'd just accused him of having a tiny dick, though it didn't stop him from having his paws all over her when he apologized. "Sorry, babe, I was only trying to help."

Isabella rolled her eyes, shrugging his hand off her shoulder as she sighed. "I had another accident around the house."

Edward's lips pulled into a hard smile as he registered her very meaningless explanation. "Another accident around the house, eh?" he repeated, the tone of his voice letting her know how probable he thought her explanation to be. _I'm going to kill him for hurting her._

"What can I say?" she muttered, averting her eyes. "I'm a bit of a klutz."

He didn't like the way she said the words one bit but, seeing as there were two other people in the room with them, there was little he could do but narrow his eyes and – hopefully – convey this particular subject was far from closed between them before he flipped back into professional mode. "It's a pretty deep cut," he spoke, Isabella wincing slightly as he examined the wound.

"I use sharp knives," Isabella shrugged. "I guess I'm lucky I didn't nick an artery."

"You are." His chest constricted at the thought of Isabella wittingly or unwittingly cutting through an artery. Would James know what to do? Would he even _care_?

"It was a good thing Jacob was close by or I would have had to drive here on my own," she went on, chuckling slightly as if the challenge of driving down a mountain with a deep arm wound didn't daunt her as much as it should.

Jacob looked as proud as if she'd just patted him on the head, his chest puffing out as his annoying grin came back in full force. "Yeah, babe, I told ya that having me around would be good for you."

Isabella's smile was forced, her discomfort caused by more than just her painful wound. "I guess so."

"So you just happened to be around?" Edward asked, his voice skeptic as he stepped back to allow Nurse Beckett to do her prep work.

"I'm their lawn man," Jacob spoke, acting like it was the highest position in the state.

Edward's eyes narrowed as he fought back the urge to punch the self-proclaimed 'lawn man' in the face. "I see."

"He also does odd jobs around the house," Isabella added, her smile sickly sweet. _She is on to him._

_Game on._ He smiled, noting how Nurse Beckett was just about to wrap up her prep-work. "Well as fun as this has been, I imagine Isabella would prefer to be treated right now so Jacob, why don't you go over to the waiting area and grab yourself a drink while I get to work?" He grinned, noticing how his words produced their desired effect, before he went in for the kill. "Isabella will come find you when she needs a ride back home." _That's it, 'lawn man'. Me doctor, you useless son of a bitch. _

He had a hard time hiding his glee when Jacob grudgingly left, Nurse Beckett's arched brow silently communicating that he owed her one hell of an explanation after this. "Can you grab me some Lidocaine to numb the area?" he asked, hoping to delay the inevitable.

She nodded, the door falling back into place behind her adding a heavy tension to the room as Isabella and Edward sat and stared, both too lost in their own feelings and frustrations to speak.

Finally it was Isabella who broke the silence, her eyes cast to the floor as she twitched nervously before speaking. "Can you just make this fast, please?" she muttered, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I don't like leaving Aro all alone up in the house. Just stitch me up and don't bother with the anesthetic. I have a very high pain threshold."

Edward sighed, shaking his head. "That's out of the question."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Her smile was thick with irony as she lifted her eyes to his.

"Look." Edward let out another deep breath as he grabbed his suture kit. "In a few seconds Nurse Beckett is going to come in and clean your wound with a saline solution and when she's done with that, I'm going to take this needle…" Isabella's eyes widened as he held up the curved, suturing needle but he didn't stop there, feeling the need to bring his argument home as he place the needle back on the tray and lifted the thread with his gloved hand "…and this piece of thread and work that through your arm as often as I think is necessary to close your wound and prevent leaving a big ugly scar. Are you sure you don't want to be numbed for that?"

She smirked, her chest rising and falling as she sighed dramatically as she gave up the fight. "I guess he will have to fend for himself a little longer. It's a good thing I locked up most of the sharp stuff before we left."

"You're talking about him like he's a kid," Edward chuckled, trying not to think about the feeling of her skin under his hands as he brought up her arm to assess the wound. Even separated by the thin latex gloves, he could feel the electricity humming from her skin to his, calling to him like some ancient mating ritual. "By the way, are you going to tell me what really happened?"

"I had an _accident_," she repeated her words from earlier, though the distress was building behind her eyes. "That's all there is to it. It was an accident. He never meant to_….oh God_!" She looked at him in utter horror, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she clasped her good hand in front of her mouth.

Before either of them could speak, though, Nurse Beckett came back into the room and forced them to abandon their conversation. Edward almost growled as the nurse's brows almost shot all the way up into her hairline as she witnessed the strange scene she'd just walked in on. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, it's fine," Edward muttered, stepping aside so that she could irrigate the wound before he sat down to stitch the two parts of the neat, deep cut back together. It was only when Nurse Beckett left the room again that either of them said anything.

"Can you just…." Isabella took in a deep breath before she finally dared to lift her eyes to his. "Can you just do me a favor and forget I said anything?"

Edward's voice was husky with worry as he growled out his answer. "Not until you tell me what the hell happened to have you end up here."

She smiled wryly, averting her glassy eyes again. "I thought you might say that."

"Then _tell_ me." His hands were steady and calm as he put a row of perfectly even sutures into her numb skin, but his mind was anything but peaceful as he waited for her to explain herself. "Please."

Finally she sighed, her eyes everywhere but towards him as she broke the silence. "I was cutting vegetables for the stew and he…he came up behind me. He didn't mean to spook me, he just…" Her lips pursed as she shook her head. "I should have paid attention. I mean…the man isn't exactly stealthy about shuffling through the house."

"It was an accident." Edward's teeth gnashed as he repeated her former statement, knowing it was all he could do to calm her down again. "You have to be more careful though. I can't stand to think about you all alone up there with him, let alone, wonder whether or not you're going to be in any sort of danger."

Her jaw set in a stubborn line. "Well, you're just going to have to, because I'm not changing."

He finished his final stitch, his gloved fingers gliding over the smooth, undamaged skin of her underarm. "Leave him." He couldn't have her in danger, the thought alone making him break out in a panicked sweat.

"I can't." Her voice was heavy with tears though her eyes remained dry as they fixed on a spot on the wall.

"Why not?"

She arched her brow. "You're his doctor, for crying out loud. You _know_ James is dying. Are you really saying I should just walk out on him when he's in the home stretch?"

He shook his head. "I'm saying that there are more important things in life than him. _You_ for instance."

"Not to me." She sighed, her eyes flittering briefly to him before settling back on that same spot. "He's all I have and…and he saved me once, when I was seconds away from my death. The least I can do is stick around while he lives out his final days."

He gasped, taking in her words. _Seconds away from death? Isabella had been seconds away from death!_ The look on her face, though, told him she wasn't going to say anything more. "But you're wasting away there." He took in a few deep, steadying breaths before finalizing his work. "You should be out there, _living_."

She snorted bitterly. "I had about as much of _life_ as I can stomach."

"That's an awfully blasé thing to say for someone as young as you!" Edward chuckled. "By the way, how old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-three," she answered. "But I feel like I've had enough life for someone twice my age."

_My God, a baby. _Edward had to take a deep breath, reminding himself of the fact that, though young, at least she was of a legal age. "How can someone just decide to stop living at the age of twenty-three?"

"Do you really think I'm going to tell you?" She arched her brow in challenge, that mocking smile he'd come to love so much gracing her lips as she stared him down. "What's it to you anyway?"

_The deal is that I think I'm falling in love with you,_ his subconscious answered, making his conscious self break out into a panicked sweat. _Wait…what?_ He didn't have long to investigate his feelings, Isabella's eager eyes waiting for an answer. So he did what any man worth a damn would have done in his position: deflect the hell out of her question. "What's the deal with Jacob?"

"He told you, he's the lawn man," she shrugged, her eyes narrowing as she tilted her head. "Now answer the damn question."

He took in a deep breath, his eyes unveiled as he looked at her, his soul naked and vulnerable as he laid his cards out on the table. "You're in my life now. There's no going back."

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_**Thoughts?**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 17. **

_**The mother.**_

"_You are in my life now. There's no going back." _

He watched as all color left Isabella's face, her eyes wide with panic as she stared at him in utter shock. "You…you…." She stammered, nervously licking her lips as her voice faltered. "I…don't know." She looked like she might bolt from the room any second, her eyes shooting everywhere but at Edward as she licked her lips again, her voice barely above a whisper as she repeated herself again. "I don't know."

His breath came in ragged pants even though he'd done nothing even remotely strenuous enough to cause such a reaction, his hand stretched slightly forward as he took a tentative step in her direction. "Isabella-"

He was barely able to suppress his growl when just at that moment – the very one in which he'd only just worked up the balls to speak his mind – the door slammed open again and Nurse Beckett marched in, completely unaware of the scene she was disturbing. "Oh, I see you're done here?" she asked in her usual perky voice. "Do you want me to wrap this up, Doctor Cullen?"

He nodded mutely, his throat too dry to produce sound as his eyes remained on Isabella, watching her every move. That was, if there _had_ been any movement. Her eyes were still avoiding him at the time when he wanted nothing more than to catch them; have her see the truth behind his words and know just how much she was getting to him.

_Just how hard he has fallen for her and how, with every word and look, he's falling a little harder even still_. There was no denying it anymore and the fact of the matter was that he didn't even _want_ to deny it anymore. Even though he hardly knew her and more words between the two of them had been spoken in anger than with love, he knew deep in his heart she could be the one; that one person you were always supposed to be in love with even though it took you ages to realize it or find them.

Nurse Beckett, meanwhile, dove into her work with the single-minded enthusiasm of someone who was only fifteen minutes away from the end of her shift, her mind already on the date her boyfriend was taking her on and what she was going to wear as she set up her station with everything needed to keep Isabella's newly stitched wound clean and protected from outside dangers. After all, there was nothing going on in the room that couldn't be explained away; Isabella's pallor and nervousness by the trauma she'd sustained and Edward's discomfort by the fact that he had just spent a considerable amount of time in a room with a woman everyone around town considered a 'weirdo'.

"Girl, you look as white as a ghost! Do you need something stronger for the pain?" she asked, when Isabella was still as pasty as a sheet even after she'd covered the freshly stitched wound up with a first layer of bandages.

Isabella shook her head, her voice a little shaky as she spoke. "I'm fine, really."

"Okay." Nurse Beckett nodded, her eyes briefly connecting with Edward's as he stood still as a statue halfway across the room. "Well, if you change your mind, just holler."

Edward knew there was nothing else for him to do in the room and as much as he wanted to stay by her side and force her to say something – _anything_ – or even blink in reaction to the words that were still hanging over them like the Sword of Damocles, he knew lingering behind after his work was done would definitely be perceived as strange. And God knows he didn't need word to get back to Carlisle about him acting strange around Isabella.

He kept his eyes on Isabella as long as he could, hoping against hope for some sign from her as he slowly backed out of the room but, as finally the door slammed shut after him, the closed shutters hiding the occupants of the examination room from view, he was still none the wiser.

_Damn woman_. He closed his eyes, taking in a few deep, steadying breaths as he slowly regained command over himself; his mind no less in turmoil than it had been before but his rational side now having good enough a handle on it to stop things from spinning out of control.

He tried to keep his eyes on the door of the exam room, but with patients needing his attention, it didn't really surprise him all that much when he found the little room empty as he came back from inspecting a nasty bump to the head of a young girl; his umpteenth gym-class victim.

"Has Isabella Harrison been discharged?" he asked, spotting Nurse Beckett at the nurse's station.

She nodded. "There was no keeping her once I'd finished bandaging her arm. I made sure Rachel's brother was there to take her home."

Edward nodded, not liking that last little piece of information one bit.

"They make a cute pair, those two," Nurse Beckett mused.

Edward merely grunted in protest, feigning interest in his next case as he rifled through the chart, his left hand grabbing the thing so tight the metal was almost piercing through his skin. _She left without a word. She just left…and that disgusting dog is taking care of her when it should be me. _

As much as he wanted to think about what had just happened and rationalize both his behavior and Isabella's, the business of working at a hospital, even one as small and insignificant as Forks General, prevented him from even stopping to think about it until he was back in his car, driving home after his shift.

He tried not to read too much into the fact that Jacob had been with her. After all, he was the Harrison's handyman which meant he got to spent time at their house, doing whatever odd jobs were at hand.

Edward didn't like the thought at all, even though he knew that had there not been a 'Jacob' around to do the kind of stuff neither Isabella nor James could do, the two Harrisons would never have been able to survive out there in the middle of nowhere.

Still, did it have to be _Jacob_?

There was something about the guy that just rubbed Edward the wrong way. It had started with the snide remarks Jacob had made about his 'girly' car when Edward came to the garage to pick up his Volvo and had been growing with every stake the annoying grease monkey tried to claim on _his_ Isabella. Because yes, as much as Edward was aware of the fact that since the Emancipation Proclamation was written, no man could possess another, Isabella was still his. _Now if only she'd see it. _

The worst thing about the whole matter wasn't so much that Isabella had left without even so much as reacting to his words – he'd pretty much expected it given her track record of avoidance and mystery – but she had left with _him_. _That dog_.

_He_ got to take her home.

_He_ got to make sure she would be okay.

_He_ got to look at her while she was digesting the words he – Edward – had spoken, whereas Edward himself could do nothing but wait until the next time they got a minute or so to speak without being overheard.

There was nothing he wanted to do more than turn the car around and drive up the hill to check up on her; though if he were completely honest, it wasn't his professional concern which had him aching to see her again. It was his own need as a man, to see her, hold her…_do just about everything he could dream of to her…_but most of all, to make sure she was alright and not being chased around the house by the mad man she was living with.

He sighed, pulling up in front of the house. _He better get used to it._ As blindly as he was falling for this girl and jumping into whatever the hell was blossoming between the two of them, he already knew it wasn't going to be an easy ride. Isabella was as complex as they came and that was even without the mortally ill and slightly creepy uncle.

If Isabella would give him a chance – and that was a big 'if' – he would have to learn how to be patient and bide his time, knowing it was the only way he could be with her. He would also have to find a way around the fact that he was still the primary care giver to her uncle who, as he was almost sure, would be as enthusiastic about the attachment forming between them as Carlisle would be.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a few deep breaths, trying to stave off the onslaught of a killer headache, before exiting the car, his briefcase slapping against his leg as he jostled it a little too roughly on his brisk trek from his designated parking space to the front door. _He will do whatever he needs to do and it will be worth it. It has to be, because _she's_ so worthy of being loved._

"Edward, is that you?" His sister's voice sounded from somewhere deep in the house, barely audible above the sound of the vacuum.

"Where the hell are you?" he called back, throwing his coat in the general direction of the coat rack. "And why are you cleaning when you have people coming in two times a week to do just that?"

"I'm in the dining room," Esme's voice belted back, the sound magnified as she pulled the plug on the vacuum cleaner.

Edward had a hard time not laughing when he came across her, her face blotched from exertion and her expensive sweater rolled up her arms as she frantically rubbed beeswax into the surface of the dining room table.

"Not a word, Ned," she growled, her hair a mess as she kept on polishing. "Not. A. Word."

"What the hell are you doing?" Edward snorted, pulling his tie loose from his neck as he pulled back a chair and plopped down, too tired to even care about pissing his sister off.

"Mom's coming," Esme growled, her voice betraying every bit of frustration she felt. "We've been summoned to Sea-Tac at two o'clock sharp tomorrow afternoon to pick her up."

His breath left his lungs in a big gasp as he tried to decide whether to be excited about seeing his mother again or scared to death because, well, his _mother_ was coming. "What?" _Oh dear_. With things between his sister and their mother being as rocky as they were, even years after Esme had escaped, he wasn't surprised by her reaction to the news. Elizabeth Masen had a way of getting to people and as much as Esme had always claimed not to care, Edward knew deep down inside she still craved their mother's approval just as much as she had all those years ago. And just like then, there was only a slim chance she was ever going to get it. "I thought she wouldn't be coming up here until Thanksgiving?"

"Apparently she had 'better things to do' – her words, not mine – around that time, so she decided to move her visit up a few weeks." Esme's smile was dripping with sarcasm as she finally threw the wax-stained rag aside and sagged down into a chair across the table from him.

He sighed, digesting her news. "Oh."

"Oh?" Esme's brows shot up as she stared at him with incredulity. "Mom's coming and all you can say is 'oh'?"

He sighed, trying to be sympathetic to his sister's point of view but failing to see how a few weeks mattered so much. "It's only Mom, Es. It's not like we'll be entertaining the President and the First Lady or anyone."

"I wish we were!" Esme cried out theatrically. "I'd have a much better shot at passing inspection with either of them than with our mother."

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a teeny little bit?" He knew rolling his eyes would mean a death sentence but it sure was tempting at that moment, his sister's behavior on top of everything else he'd gone through that day making his head spin.

"That's easy for you to say, Ned! You're the bright-eyed, piano playing math-genius while I'm the good for nothing middle child who flunked science and got caught smoking pot behind the bleachers." Esme huffed loudly, throwing the wax-stained rag away as if it had done something to offend her as she glared at him.

Again, she had a point there. Where Edward had always been the golden child and, even when he'd fallen from his father's pedestal, the youngest Masen child much cherished by their mother, Esme had always been in the difficult position of being in the middle; her character too much like her father's to ever find approval in their mother's eyes and too much like her mother to ever connect with their dad.

"But you made it work for yourself," he answered. "You got away from them and made a life for yourself outside the Masen world. You're a success, Es. She's gotta see that."

"Do you really think she will?" Esme sounded skeptical. It didn't sound like their mother to actually pick up on any growth that didn't pertain to her own bank account, let alone express any sympathy for it. Elizabeth Masen was as cold and unfeeling as a woman could be and in the more than ten years she'd spent away from her mother, Esme's resentment over the way Elizabeth had chosen to raise her children had only grown.

"I don't know," Edward replied truthfully, "but seeing as she's banging the help nowadays, maybe mom's grown a little more sympathetic to the life of the 'little people'."

Esme cringed. "Please, don't ever mention the words 'mom' and 'banging' in the same sentence again."

"Noted." Edward grimaced, the visual of his mother banging the chauffeur not really appealing to him either. "Let's just hope for the best?"

Esme snorted, shaking her head. "When did you become so damn optimistic?"

He grinned back, shrugging his shoulders. "What can I say? It's what six months of rehab and intense therapy do to you." And the presence of Isabella in his life didn't exactly hurt either, though he wasn't ready to admit it to his sister.

**oOo**

There was no joking the next day when the two siblings stood side by side in the arrivals terminal of Sea-Tac airport, waiting for their mother to arrive.

"I still can't believe you got Carlisle to rearrange the surgical schedule around mom's visit," Edward muttered, shaking his head as he kept his eyes trained to the entryway their mother would soon walk through.

"You're underestimating the power mom wields yet again," Esme chuckled darkly. "Carlisle is a darling but he still wants to make a good impression on my folks even though he knows I'd love him just as much – and even more – if he didn't and mom…." She sighed, shaking her head. "Can you even imagine what would happen if I told her you couldn't be there to pick her up because you had to work? Besides, you'll still put in your time."

Edward snorted. "Point taken." As much as he hated giving his fellow doctors at the hospital – and Maggie in specific – the impression that he was the kind of privileged little rich boy who'd demand his boss to arrange his career around his family life, he knew better than to sick their mother on his sister. It would be carnage. Absolute carnage.

Besides, Esme was right. He would still work his regular hours. All that had changed was that he now worked the graveyard instead of his planned day shift. If Banner was to be believed, he was actually doing his colleague a favor. Doctor Banner had never made a secret of his dislike for night shifts -unless Nurse Beckett was working the graveyard shift with him- so he'd been more than happy to change a few shifts around to get out of it.

"And just so you know," his sister continued, her voice pointed and sharp, "leave me alone with her and I'll kill you."

_So predictable_. Edward chuckled, barely avoiding a sucker punch to the gut as Esme hissed some barely veiled insults his way. It was going to be a tough couple of days, and not just because he'd pretty much be on his feet twenty-four/seven. It was going to be keeping his mother and sister out of each other's hair that was going to be the biggest challenge.

"Fuck, here she comes." Esme growled as Edward felt her tense up beside him, her lips forming words without sound as she chanted 'only four days' over and over again.

"Smile," Edward muttered under his breath, his own lips pulling into a smile as genuine as his sisters' was fake as their mother strutted into view.

She was still magnificent, though some of her former glory had faded slightly with the years. Seeing her brought back the memories of when he was little; watching her from afar as she got ready for a night on the town, her eyes lighting up as she paraded in front of her mirror, clad from head to toe in nothing but the best and most expensive outfits.

She'd been the one who introduced him to music and art on the quiet Sunday mornings they spent having brunch together in the solitude of her private sitting room, his five year old ears captured by the sounds of Callas and Caruso serenading him in words completely foreign to his ears. _"It is not about understanding, dear boy,"_ she'd told him when he'd first announced he thought the music was stupid because he couldn't understand it, _"it's about beauty and the way it captures us even though we cannot comprehend it." _

"Edward, Esme." Elizabeth flashed her usual warm smile as she walked out towards her brood, trying desperately not to think about the many hands that had wrapped around the handle bar of her baggage trolley before her and the fact that it would be hours until she could properly wash her hands. It was just one of the many sacrifices one had to make to visit ones children. "It is good to see you again."

"Hello, Mother." Esme's voice sounded forced as her brother nudged her forward, their hug awkward and very brief. "Did you have a pleasant journey?"

"As pleasant as one can get in an overcrowded airplane with an infant crying somewhere in coach," Elizabeth dismissed, her smile widening as she spotted her youngest child hiding behind her daughter's back. "Edward! Come here, let me see you."

Edward shuffled forward, the presence of his mother having the same effect on him now as it had all those years ago. No matter how many years had passed or how much they'd both disappointed the other, being in her presence he still felt reduced to the small, five year old boy, sitting on the floor of her dressing room.

And just like then, the strong cloud of Chanel No.5 that surrounded her was enough to almost knock him unconscious as she engulfed him in a tight hug. "You look good, Son. It's so good to see you better again."

"Thanks, Mom," he muttered, his body feeling boneless as he submitted to her embrace. "How was Maui?"

"Crowded and hot," she sighed, patting his back before stepping backwards again, "but I guess that is to be expected when one travels to such a tourist hotspot." She glared at a pair of tourists who'd had to audacity to almost bump into her, rubbing her shoulder as if she'd been knocked down with a baseball bat as opposed to brushed slightly by the shoulder of a twenty-something year old backpacker.

"Let's get out of here?" Esme suggested. "I have the car parked just outside."

Elizabeth merely nodded, her eyes still narrowed in displeasure as she followed after her daughter, her eyes, however, fixed on her son as she spoke again. "I have taken the liberty of securing us two tickets to the opera on Saturday."

"Two?" Esme immediately remarked.

Their mother shrugged. "You never expressed an interest."

"But I'm _married_ now, remember?" Esme sneered back. "And you're visiting _us_, not just Edward. What if my husband and I wanted to come with you?"

"Do you?" Elizabeth challenged, her face so tough and impressive that people were parting like the Red Sea all around them.

"No," Esme reluctantly grumbled. "But it would have been nice if you'd at least _asked_ me."

"I didn't see the point." Their mother shrugged, smiling gratefully at her son as he took over the arduous task of pushing her luggage trolley.

"Just like you didn't see the point in informing us of your changed travel plans until the last moment," Esme snarled, setting off after her at a brisk pace.

"I informed you as soon as I made up my mind." Once again, Elizabeth acted as if it were the most normal case in the world. Which, to her, it was. "Besides, I do not believe you will be completely deprived of guests for that weekend."

"What do you mean?" It was Edward who spoke that time, his words cutting through whatever scathing remark his sister was going to make.

"I believe the nanny and her child expressed an interest in coming over for a visit that week," their mother spoke, her lips pursed as she mentioned 'the other woman', "you know, what with your father being in London for the week."

"Dad's going to London?" That news was new to Edward. "I thought he hated traveling?"

"Not as much as he loves money, dear." Elizabeth smiled wryly.

"True." Esme chuckled bitterly, shepherding her family back in the direction of the car. As always, her mind went back to one of the final demands she'd let her father make of her. That one had been about money as well and it ended up almost killing her. "But again, it would have been nice if people would have actually _told_ me about their plans before they made them."

Elizabeth shrugged. "It must be common practice to just barge into people's homes whenever you feel like it in whatever country she hails from."

"Mexico, Mom," Esme sighed, breathing out a sigh of relief when finally the black Mercedes belonging to her husband came into view. "And might I remind you that her actions aren't much different from yours? At least we already cleared the Thanksgiving weekend because we thought you were coming. What if I'd made plans for this week? Or what about Edward? Did you stop to think that he has commitments to the hospital he can't just walk out on?"

"But he's here now, isn't he?" their mother countered, smiling beatifically at her son. "His commitments couldn't have been that pressing if he's here."

Edward shook his head, taking in a deep breath as he loaded the trunk with what must have been enough luggage to last a fortnight. _This is going to be a long ride. _

It was so like her to argue everything in her favor, dismissing other people's lives and beliefs if they didn't play into her cards and stopping at nothing to protect the family name and social standing. _Not her family, though, just their name. _

Fortunately for Edward, his mother and sister ceased their crossfire of passive aggressive sneers as soon as they were in the car; Esme keeping her attention on the road as she drove back and Elizabeth sliding into the back seat to interrogate her son. That, of course, meant for the better part of three hours Edward was grilled on his experiences with rehab, small town life and, most importantly, his final dealings with his father and 'the nanny'.

"For once and for all, Mother," he finally sighed, rubbing his temples against the nagging headache that had started somewhere between Sequim and Port Angeles, "will you stop calling her 'the nanny'?"

"Why?" Elizabeth countered. "It seems like a more appropriate name than 'the trollop. After all, she used to be the nanny…"

Edward could feel the car swerve slightly as Esme appeared just as shocked as he was, hearing their refined, upper-crust mother refer to another woman as 'trollop'. His shock didn't keep him from defending the woman who had been his rock throughout his childhood. "She's been married to dad for over fifteen years now. I know you would probably have seen things happen differently but you have to cut her some slack."

She sighed unhappily. "What would you have me do, then, Edward? Make nice with the woman who stole my husband from under my very nose?"

"You have no problem doing so in public," Edward quipped.

"That's different and you know it," Elizabeth lectured her son. "We have a name to uphold. I cannot very well snap at her like some fishwife in the marketplace when one of your father's business associates is near."

Esme's sarcastic snort could be heard even over the dull roar of the engine, her eyes seeking her brother's through the rearview mirror. _Always appearances first. It's the story of their lives._

"Then can you please cut me some slack?" Edward pleaded. "I love Carmen and I always have, just like I love you. I hate knowing the two of you don't get along, even though I understand where you're coming from."

Once again his mother let out a deep, unhappy sigh, her eyes trained to the window as she gave in. "I guess for your sake I might muster the effort to call her by her given name when you are around."

Esme shook her head, her eyes narrowing as they twinkled with disbelief. When it came to their mother, Edward had always been the one who would get away with murder. That was, if said murder didn't do too much damage to the Masen name and standing. She'd gotten used to the distinct difference in treatment a long time ago but that didn't mean it didn't still sting.

It stung quite a lot, actually.

"We're almost here," she announced, biting through her own frustration and hurt in order to keep the peace. "It's the house at the end of the street."

Their mother strained her neck, trying to catch a first glimpse at the fine, colonial style mansion. "It doesn't look too bad," she muttered as her eyes raked over the three story building.

Esme smiled, knowing it was as much as she was going to get in the way of compliments. "I made a lot of improvements over the years."

"Ay, yes," Elizabeth mused. "You're a decorator now."

The way she said it completely rubbed Esme the wrong way, like being an Interior Designer was only a small step up from selling her body in some filthy back alley. "I love my job, Mom," she snapped. "You should be happy I finally found something that gives me joy."

"You should see some of her work, Mother," Edward chimed in, sensing his sister needed his help. "She did rooms for all the big names around here and they all love her."

That managed to coax a smile from their mother's lips, though a very condescending one. "I guess that is something."

Esme merely rolled her eyes, muttering a string of curses under her breath as she exited the car and slammed the door, pouring all of her anger into her movement. _Only four days. _

As soon as the sound of her mother complaining about whatever was irking her at that moment were drowned out, though, they were replaced by something else; a loud shrieking voice preceding the dramatic exit of Jasper's girlfriend from the house.

Esme's shoulders sagged in defeat. _Why do things like this always have to happen when he really could use a break_?

"Maria, wait!" Jasper ran out of the house, trying to stop the girl before she could walk away from him.

"Fuck you, Jasper!" Maria turned around one last time, her eyes blazing as she rounded on her boyfriend. "There's always a fucking choice. You just don't have the guts to stand up for your ideals." She almost ran straight into Esme on her way out, grumbling something under her breath as she marched down the driveway while Jasper stood on the front porch, his hands buried in his shoulder-length unwashed hair as he stared after her.

"Fucking women!" he grumbled, kicking at one of the columns before he turned around wedging his hands back into the pockets of his oversized grubby jeans as he trudged back into the house.

"I take it that's one of your step-children?" Esme balled her fist as her mother's sneering voice, filled with irony, sounded from behind her. She could almost taste the judgment in it.

"That's Jasper," she acknowledged, trying really damn hard not to pull back and slam her fist right into her mother's face_. It's only going to make matters worse, not better._

Elizabeth didn't say anything else but the look on her face was enough to make Esme feel three feet tall and lacking in all divisions. _Just like the old days. _The only good thing was that, for the moment at least, her mother hadn't found out the reason for the Shakespearean drama that had just unfolded on the front porch. If she'd find out it was about Jasper fulfilling his court-ordered community service at the local hospital and, therefore, becoming friends with the 'establishment' she would have had enough material to last her a lifetime of sucking the blood out from underneath her daughter's nails.

"Come on, Mother," Edward offered, patting Esme lithely on the shoulder as he brushed past her. "I'll show you around."

Esme smiled gratefully at her brother. "Thanks, Ned," she whispered. "I owe you one."

Edward shrugged, handing her his coat before he joined Elizabeth who was appraising the foyer as if it were an exhibit at the Met. "Well? Does the house pass inspection so far?"

Elizabeth smiled, linking her arm with her son as she cast one last good look around her. "It looks quite spacious for such a small place."

Esme and Edward shared a look of mutual understanding, both laboring to suppress their laughter as Edward carried Elizabeth off into the living room while Esme went into the kitchen to prepare some tea.

Things continued like that, balancing between tense silence, pointed ignorance and open hostility for the next three days, Edward's time completely eaten up by keeping his mother entertained and his sister from committing matricide. It wasn't the kind of stuff he'd imagined doing on his first extended weekend off but even in spite of the tension and the ill-concealed jabs flying around, he had to admit he was enjoying his mom's visit, even though it wore him out more than a double shift at the hospital did.

Where it came to his mother, though, he was finding help in places he'd never expected to see it. Because who would have thought that Rosalie would have been able to pull her head out of her ass long enough to actually notice the presence of a stranger in her home; notice and, even more uncommon, _approve_?

Edward didn't and, from the looks of incredulity Esme had been flashing him during the past couple of days, neither had she. It was quite a change to see Rosalie actually make an effort to be nice to someone for a change and engage with the world around her with a look other than her usual displeasure on her face.

But there they were, thick as thieves as they huddled around the breakfast table early that Sunday morning, Elizabeth sharing her knowledge about Chicago's high and mighty as Rosalie listened with gleaming eyes.

Edward smiled, listening to his mother's polished voice as he slowly descended the stairs. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, the continental US consisted solely of the east coast and Chicago. It might have been ingrained into her New England DNA but to her the idea of finding or seeking polite society in what used to be the Wild West was simply preposterous.

After four days of having his mom around while still retaining his shifts at the hospital, he felt even more worn out than he had at the start of his residency, when he was working crazy hours and basically living at the hospital. Most of all, though, he was missing Isabella; the notion of being able to see her again in church making him feel more giddy and eager to attend mass than he had ever been in his life. All throughout the past couple of days his thoughts had been on her; how she was recovering, if James had made another attempt to hurt her…_if she's thinking about him the way he's about her. _

Carlisle's report of his visit to the Harrison home – the one he should have been giving - didn't help one bit. Though he was hugely relieved to know that Isabella at least appeared happy and healthy, it only made him feel all the more desperate to see it – to see _her_ – with his own eyes.

_Only one more day….._

"You look like shit," Esme whispered, bypassing him on her way upstairs to, presumably, drag Jasper out of his bed. The poor boy had been in there ever since his bust up and subsequent break up with Maria.

"Thanks, sis," he fake-huffed, fidgeting with his tie. "Imagine how you'd look if you came home at three in the morning only to be dragged out again at eight." He yawned, mechanically pulling a big mug from the cupboard and pouring himself a cup of coffee. "And that after working all day the day before."

"Ah, Edward, there you are!" His mother's face lit up into a bright smile, her face smooth, polished and completely unaffected by the lack of sleep that was plaguing her son. "I was just telling darling Rosalie about our night at the symphony."

He could just about muster a small nod but that was it, his body heavy with fatigue as he listened to his mother's analysis of the performance they'd attended the night before. It had been a good day, as far as days spent with his mother went; the drive over spent catching up on art and music before enjoying a fancy dinner and an evening of Mozart, Vivaldi and Beethoven.

All topics that might make things difficult between the two of them had been pointedly ignored, just as Edward expected. After all, his mother could always be counted on to avoid those issues that might reflect negatively on her or require her to show emotion. Bringing up Edward's _situation_, as she kept on calling it, would mean both.

It was why she'd never visited him in rehab and had gone out of her way to avoid him in the months before. She wasn't a cold woman, per se, though often her behavior was very much that, it was just that she had no idea of how to act like a sensitive human being. Of course she knew how to pull her face into those expressions that feigned caring, gave generously to a plethora of good causes and played her role as patron of many good causes perfectly, but it was all a hollow front. There was nothing genuine behind it except for her desire to reign over Chicago's higher circles.

Perhaps that was why he loved discussing art and music with her so much. Those were the only times he'd ever seen her show emotion. _Real_ emotion.

Meanwhile his mother had launched into a detailed explanation of their day, the details of fine dining and even finer company coaxing a wistful sigh from Rosalie's lips. "I wish I could do stuff like that," she muttered. "Esme and Carlisle never take me to Seattle, let alone the symphony."

Edward had a hard time not snorting out loud. Rosalie at the symphony? He was amazed she even knew what that was, let alone be interested in what it offered.

"Your time will come, dear." Elizabeth smiled as she patted the young girl's hand. "When you go off to college, you will have the world at your fingertips, I'm sure." Her face turned more serious, her eyes stern as she gazed at Rosalie. "You will just have to make the right choices in life to ensure you will get there."

Edward perked his ears, his eyes firmly on the newspaper he wasn't reading as he listened in on their conversation.

"What do you mean?" Rosalie's brows furrowed in confusion, her face slightly more pale than usual as she tried to figure out what she'd done wrong.

Elizabeth cut right to the chase. "As eligible a young man as I think this Mister King of yours is, you would do right to keep him at arm's length. Boys like him are very provincial in their views and expectations of life. As rich as his parents may be, a man like him just won't do if you have your sight set on higher goals."

"You mean…" Rosalie's voice faltered slightly as she tried to process her new idol's words, "that if I want to be like you someday, I would have to break up with Royce?"

"Tell me, dear," Elizabeth went on, relentless in achieving her goal, "what does this Royce character want to do with his life once he's out of college?"

Rosalie shrugged. "Take over his father's company, I suppose."

"Exactly." Elizabeth's eyes glimmered now that she had Rosalie exactly where she wanted her. "And how would you feel being buried here, in the middle of nowhere?" Her eyes were full of disdain as she looked outside and made it seem like Esme and Carlisle had built their house in the middle of a landfill.

"I see." Rosalie looked utterly shaken, the life she'd imagined for herself shattered into a million little pieces.

Elizabeth, meanwhile seemed to be aware of no harm, her face just as pleasant and meaningless as it always was. "I believe your father and step-mother want us to join them outside," she spoke as she started to gather her purse. "At least, I think that is what your father is trying to communicate by starting the car."

Edward shook his head, watching as his mother left the scene of the crime without stopping to think about the damage she'd done to a young girl who looked up to her like an idol. Hell, he was almost starting to feel sorry for poor Rosalie…and that was saying something.

"You don't have to do as she says," he finally spoke, downing the last of his coffee before getting up and putting the cup in the sink.

"Huh?" Rosalie looked up, seemingly forgetting she wasn't the only one in the room.

"She's not God, she's just one woman," Edward went on, his eyes following the girl as she got up from her chair. "Just keep in mind that no matter what my mother tells you, _you_ decide what you want to do with your life, not she."

She huffed, pushing past him as she sent him a fierce glare. "Like I need your advice!"

There was no conviction in her voice, though, her movements betraying her insecurity as she ambled after Elizabeth and got into the car_. She will never learn. _

The church was already packed when they arrived, though their usual pew was still empty as they walked in, just in time for service.

Isabella and James Harrison were already there, his eyes spotting her almost the second Edward entered the church, his chest constricting as a small, tense smile appeared on her lips.

She'd been in his mind constantly even though he had been busy doing other stuff and, even though Carlisle had kept him abreast of everything he'd seen and heard on his house call at the Harrisons', knowing they were doing okay – well, as okay as a mortally ill man could do, at least – his words had done nothing to compensate for her absence in his life.

_He misses her. _

_He needs her, but most of all he needs to talk to her; find out what she feels for him and if it is anything like what he feels for her. _

Edward shook his head, chuckling at his own madness. _He is so gone. _

"Who are those people?" Elizabeth leaned into Rose, her voice too loud to be a whisper as she indicated her head towards where Isabella sat next to James. "They look rather singular."

"If by singular you mean they look like a bunch of freaks, you've got it right," Rosalie snorted evilly, her voice inaudible as she whispered conspiratorially into Elizabeth's ear. Edward couldn't hear what she was saying but the look on his mother's face was enough to make his blood boil.

And there was nothing he could do, the organ picking up just as the family slid into their seats, cutting all opportunities for conversation short as the congregation struck up its first hymn.

All through the service Edward caught himself sneaking looks over his shoulder at Isabella who was seated a few pews back from them, his behavior though not so stealthy that it didn't attract attention from his mother.

She was also the one who held him back after service ended, demanding a tour of the building when Edward really wanted nothing more than to mingle with the Harrisons in the hope that Isabella would give him some sign –anything– to let him know she was still thinking about his words from earlier in the week.

"_Mother_," he scowled, trying to break free from the death grip she had on his arm.

"What?" she replied innocently. "Is it so strange that I want to know a little more about this place? After all, it is not a mere trifle when one's son suddenly and completely finds religion."

He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's nothing much to see here."

"I know," she nodded, "but I would hazard a guess it will still be enough to keep you from making a fool out of yourself and harming your career –and our good name– even more so than you've already done. I am merely looking out for you Edward. I saw the looks you were giving that girl Edward and I have to say I do not approve, at all, of your choice in women."

He groaned. _How did she find out about Isabella?_ He'd told her nothing and he knew that Esme would have kept her mouth shut as well. Sighing, he concluded that he probably hadn't been nearly as stealthy with his glances at Isabella as he'd thought he was and that his mother must have picked up on _something_ and drawn het conclusions from there. "I don't need a babysitter, Mother," he growled, finally disentangling himself and, with another glare, going in hot pursuit of the Harrisons.

But he was too late, their car already winding its way out of the parking lot as he finally made it outside, his mother hot on his heels. "She's no good for you, Junior," she spoke in his ear, her voice the same level tone as it had been when she'd been talking to Rosalie. _Junior. She knows how much he hates to be called Junior. It reminds him of his dad._ "Even if she hadn't been off limits, she still would have been nothing but a dead weight to you. You'd be much better off finding a girl more like Rosalie; someone who could help you make a name for yourself and support you in the way a woman living within our kind of circles needs to support her husband."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Edward sneered. He already felt nauseous at even the prospect of being welcomed by a cold, superficial bitch like Rosalie every day when he got home. _Now that's something that could make any man put in for overtime. _"And for future reference, the only one who gets a say in my love life is me, not you."

"I'm only speaking my mind, Edward," she shrugged, showing no obvious reaction to his words. "I believe being your mother gives me every right to do so."

He grumbled though he held his peace, knowing nothing he could say or do would ever get her to back off. _Not that it matters anyway, because Isabella is long gone._

Little did he know that it would be only hours before he got to see her again, the family was just sitting down for Sunday dinner when the doorbell rang, the incessant chiming alarming even the kids as Carlisle jumped up from his seat to find out who it was that was making such a racket.

It was only seconds later when not Carlisle, but Isabella, barged into the dining room, her eyes wild and her hair in disarray as she sought out the only person the world who could calm her troubled mind.

"Edward?"

Her voice was enough to make him jump up, his mind frantic as he closed the distance. "I'm here."

Her throat produced a shaky sob as her shoulders sagged with relief, though her eyes remained wide with fear and desperation. "I need you."

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_**Thoughts? **_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 18. **

_**The declaration.**_

_It was only seconds later when not Carlisle, but Isabella, barged into the dining room, her eyes wild and her hair in disarray as she sought out the only person the world who could calm her troubled mind. "Edward?"_

_Her voice was enough to make him jump up, his mind frantic as he closed the distance. "I'm here." _

_Her throat produced a shaky sob as finally her shoulders sagged with relief. "I need you." _

"What?" Carlisle spoke, his voice betraying his shock as his eyes flashed from Edward to Isabella; suspicious for a moment until he apparently decided it was nothing. "Is something the matter with your uncle?"

It was a good thing he decided to speak before Edward could because the words dying on his lips were nothing short of a declaration. A declaration unfit to be heard by his family. For now.

"He...he fell," Isabella explained, never taking her eyes away from Edward. The obvious fear in her eyes and voice made him want to leap across the table and take her in his arms, his body almost in pain from the amount of restraint he had to exercise. "He's conscious but I…I can't get him up."

"Right." Edward nodded, his mind already going over the things he needed to do. He was in doctor mode now, the man inside him who simply loved the girl standing before him was immediately pushed to the background as he tried to imagine the scenario Isabella had left behind and what he could do to fix it. If there was one thing he _did_ know, however, it was that no resolution was going to come from him standing around in his sister's dining room. "I'm coming with you. Carlisle?"

His brother-in-law was already shrugging into his coat, his doctor's bag sitting next to his feet. "We should take your car. It's already in the driveway." He smiled, leaning down to kiss his wife's cheek. "We'll be back later, darling." To him, this was nothing that he hadn't done a hundred times before; rushing out to be with a patient he who needed him. He felt none of the turmoil that raged inside Edward, only the adrenaline rush that doctors always felt when they knew a case was coming in.

Esme's answering smile was tense as she nodded, leaning into his touch. "I'll put a plate of food in the fridge for both of you." She'd been through it all too many times to feel disappointed about the abrupt end to their family dinner or the evening she would undoubtedly spend alone. Being a doctor's wife meant you just had to deal with all of that, or walk away, which was something she didn't even think about, no matter how hard things could become.

"Thanks, Es," Edward smiled, his hand brushing over her shoulder as he crossed the room. "I owe you one." His eyes lingered on Isabella, noticing how out of place she looked, her shoulders hunched over and her hair falling out of her bun in loose, mahogany strands as her eyes shot from one face to the next. He felt for her…but most of all he felt an almost desperate urge to protect her; keep her safe and banish that wounded animal look forever from her beautiful face.

"Edward!" He could hear the accusation in his mother's shriek of astonishment. "Where on earth do you think you're going? You cannot just abandon us in the middle of Sunday dinner?"

He turned around, his voice confident and leaving no room for discussion. "I can and I will, mother. My duty to my patients overrides everything else." There was more to it than that – so much more – but for now he didn't want to go into all of that with her. It was a fight he would have to engage in when he got back.

He didn't wait for her to say anything else, her indignant remarks muffled as he made his way out of the house, his hand resting protectively on the small of Isabella's back. He didn't notice Esme's look of curious admiration as her eyes followed his receding form. She was proud of him for standing up for what he wanted, even if his choices made her feel sick with worry.

"My car…" Isabella mumbled as they tore across the driveway towards Edward's silver Volvo.

"We'll get it back to you tomorrow," Carlisle answered, knowing, like Edward did, that nobody could be spared to man the distinctly slower moving car Isabella drove at that moment. Whatever they would be coming across at the house, all three of them would be needed to make sure James was taken care of.

The tires screeched as he tore out of the driveway, the urgency of the situation hitting home. James had fallen, somewhere in the house and his condition was apparently so bad that Isabella had left his side to get help.

"Can you tell us a little more about what happened, Isabella?" It seemed Carlisle's thoughts had wandered down a similar avenue, his voice calm and professional as he leaned over the center console, wisely having chosen the backseat so that Isabella could ride up front with Edward. As oblivious as he was about how far things had progressed between Isabella and Edward – even if they still had to actually talk things out between them – it hadn't escaped his notice how she had sought out Edward and not him in her time of need. It pleased him to know how, after the rocky start they'd had, Edward had somehow managed to win Isabella's trust in him as a professional.

Isabella sniffed, her silent tears falling as she struggled to gain command over her voice. "It was so stupid…I…" She topped to suck in a shaky, sob-wrecked breath, her shoulders pulled back as she somehow found her strength. "When we get home from church, Aro normally takes some time to rest and recuperate while I fix us our brunch. Acting normal while in church takes a lot out of him nowadays that he needs some time to regenerate as soon as we get home."

She sighed, wiping away fresh tears as Edward tore out of town and onto the small, country road that led to the Harrisons' house. "He was in his usual seat when I left him…I thought it was safe…he never gets up. He _never_ moves."

"You did nothing wrong, Isabella," Edward assured her, knowing in his heart that it was the truth even when he hadn't heard the full story. "I know you wouldn't want anything to happen to him."

Her hands trembled as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I didn't hear anything…no bang, no crash, _nothing_. The noise from the stove must have drowned it all out as I was working. I only found out what happened when I went back into the living room to get him." She sobbed loudly, Edward's hand itching to reach out to her over the center console. But he didn't heed its desire – he _couldn't_ –knowing Carlisle would be watching. "He could have been lying there for as long as an _hour_."

"Do you know what he was trying to do?" Carlisle, at least, kept his calm as he went on, trying to gather as many pieces of the puzzle as he could before entering the scene.

"I-I think he was trying to go upstairs," she muttered, her eyes staring out but seeing only the horror she'd walked into, "though I don't know why. The only rooms upstairs are my rooms."

"Could it be that you left something in there that he needed?" Carlisle asked.

Isabella shook her head. "I never take anything upstairs with me that isn't mine."

_Strange_. Edward frowned, wondering what it might have been that James was looking for. Had it been a fit of paranoia that had driven him there? But why? What could he have suspected to make him take such a crazy risk? James knew his own limitations well enough to know that trying to climb a flight of stairs in his condition was a very dangerous undertaking.

"We're almost there," he reassured Isabella, her body tense as a spring as he rounded the final corner to the Harrisons' mansion.

She was out of the car before it had come to a complete stop, her feet crunching on the gravel and her skirt flapping wildly around her legs as she tore off into a mad sprint towards the front door, Carlisle and Edward hot on her heels as they quickly parked the car and grabbed their medical supplies.

"Through here," her voice called out, the anxiety of it echoing through the vast entrance hall as they followed its sound to the main stairwell.

Fine China was scattered all across the doorway, fallen from a tray hastily discarded on a nearby armchair as the fragrant smells of an abandoned meal invaded from the adjacent dining room. But that wasn't grabbed their attention. No, as soon as they crossed into the main room of the house, both Edward and Carlisle's eyes were immediately drawn to the frail figure of a man, slumped against the base of the steps leading upstairs to the rooms on the first floor. He looked more like a rag doll than a living, breathing human being.

"Aro?" Isabella cried out in a panic as she kneeled over him. "Can you hear me?"

Edward released a breath he had been holding for God only knew how long as a small groan sounded from the pitiful pile of man, followed by a string of barely audible and completely senseless mumblings. _At least he is still alive._

James' groan was the cue both doctors needed to spring back into action, their legs crossing the distance as fast as they could as they joined Isabella around their patient's seemingly lifeless form.

"Isabella, can you stand back for me?" Edward's voice was gentle as he slowly pulled her back, his eyes remaining on the patient. "We need our space to examine him."

Her arms gripped his like they were her only lifelines, her eyes shimmering with tears as they sought his. "You will fix him, won't you?"

"We'll do everything we can," he assured her. "I promise."

"I don't like this, Edward." Carlisle shook his head as he sat back, retrieving his phone from the inner pocket of his jacket. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"No! You can't do that!" Isabella cried out, immediately putting her body between Carlisle and James' slumped figure. "Aro…he doesn't _want_ to be admitted to a hospital. No matter what happens, he told me, he would never set foot inside a hospital again. He gave very specific orders-"

"But we can't just leave him here not knowing-" Carlisle started, his brows set sternly. Edward could see that even the suggestion alone of not doing what he thought was the best thing for his patient went against the grain. Even if it was fulfilling the patient's expressed wish.

"She may have a point there, Carlisle," Edward intervened, noting the look of intense gratitude on Isabella's face from out of the corner of his eye. "You know his wishes better than anyone. Besides, given the condition he's in, exposing him to a strange environment might do more damage than it could repair."

"Do you mean…" Carlisle's eyes sought Edward's, a slight note of uncertainty slipping into his gaze. "You can't be saying you just want to leave him out here. Are you insane, Edward?"

"He's only survived this long by keeping his exposure to outside stimuli down to a bare minimum," Edward went on, driving his point across as clearly as he could. "What do you think it would do to his lucidity and his brain if you put him right in the middle of a busy hospital." Forks General might not actually have been a hub of flurried excitement Edward was painting it out to be but even Carlisle could imagine the disadvantages of such an action. "Even if you put him in a private room, the shock of waking up in a strange environment could be disastrous."

"But we can't just hoist him up and leave it all to chance!" Carlisle cried. "Look at him, Edward. His mind isn't the only part affected by his disease. God, his bones have to be as brittle as porcelain by now. He's bound to have broken something."

Edward sighed, knowing the truth in Carlisle's words. "How about we try to assess his state right here and make our decision based on what we find?" he offered, knowing it was probably as far as he was going to get. "If nothing appears to be broken, we respect his wishes, if…."

Isabella's hand was on his arm as soon as he'd spoken the words, her eyes wild with fear again as they bored into his. "You can't take him, Edward. I promised him. I _promised_."

"He might die if we don't…." Edward hedged, not wanting to give her hopes he might not be able to fulfill.

"He'll die anyway," she hissed. "You _know_ his days are numbered. At least show him the decency of letting him die the way _he_ wants. _Where_ he wants."

"We'll try to stabilize him," Carlisle decided, his voice and the tense set of his shoulders communicating his reluctance. "Edward?"

He nodded, his eyes still on Isabella, trying to get her to understand where they were coming from. She sighed, averting her eyes as her grip on his arm loosened, allowing him to assist Carlisle in assessing James for spinal injuries before slowly lowering his body to the ground amidst a flurry of incoherent ramblings but – mercifully – only very few groans of pain.

"What do you think?" Edward was anxious to hear from Carlisle, not trusting his own judgment.

"I think he's been lucky," Carlisle sighed, his hands carefully feeling every bone as he listened closely to James' reactions. "Though I don't know if 'lucky' is the right word, given the situation he's in."

"He hasn't broken anything?" Isabella's small voice asked.

"It doesn't look like it, no," Carlisle confirmed, his sigh underlining his displeasure at the situation he found himself in. "But I can't be sure, not without the proper evidence to back it up."

"Thank God!" Isabella's body sagged into an almost boneless state, her arms clutching the bottom column of the banister.

Carlisle, meanwhile, shook his head. "I don't like this, Edward."

"I know." Edward nodded, not liking the situation he found himself in any more than Carlisle did even though he held his patients' wishes in higher regard than his brother-in-law did. "But it's all we can do at the moment."

"We need to get him to his bed." Carlisle sighed in reluctant acceptance. "If we leave him lying here, he's going to catch pneumonia."

"I have a fold up stretcher in the trunk of the car," Edward nodded, silently giving thanks for his own OCD tendencies when it came to being prepared for every eventuality.

"He needs to be monitored," Carlisle went on. "I'll respect my patients' wishes but I won't have him left on this God forsaken mountain when I can't be sure if he hasn't broken any bones, let alone factoring in his altered mental status."

"I'll stay." Edward smirked as Carlisle's brow shot up, knowing he was close to betraying himself. "I'm still off the roster for the day shift tomorrow, aren't I?" For the first time that week he was actually happy for the nepotism his mother's visit had brought about, seeing as he was still off duty to join Esme in escorting their mother safely back to Sea-Tac. "I'll hold down the fort tonight and if there's anything noteworthy to report, you can relieve me in the morning if we think it's necessary."

"Okay." Carlisle nodded, his eyes lingering on the frail old man lying between the two of them. "I'll get on the phone to Port Angeles to see if we can borrow their mobile x-ray unit tomorrow. But I want you to call me if anything happens I should know." His eyes grew stern. "_Everything_."

Between the two of them they got James lifted onto the narrow stretcher in no time, their patient growing slightly more responsive as they managed to carry him to his bedroom and lift him onto his bed. "Check him for signs of intracranial injury as soon as he's lucid enough," Carlisle spoke to Edward as they both observed from the doorway as Isabella removed James' shoes and covered him with a thick quilt.

"Of course." Edward nodded. "Tell Esme I'm sorry for sticking mom on her."

"You tell her," Carlisle grinned, nudging him in the side. "There's no way I'm going to stick my nose in that hornet's nest."

"Coward," Edward grumbled.

"I suggest you make at the florist on your way back tomorrow morning," Carlisle went on, enjoying his position of power a little too much as far as Edward was concerned. "She likes Irises."

The minute Carlisle's receding footsteps sounded down the hall was the moment Edward's nerves kicked in full force, the enormity of the responsibility he'd just taken upon his shoulders only now hitting home. It was very clear that Carlisle did not agree with the course of treatment Edward had forced upon him and Edward was very sure that, should something bad happed during the night, Carlisle would probably not hesitate to throw him under the bus.

And that was even without taking into consideration that he now found himself locked away from everything and everyone with no one but a mortally ill and mentally altered old man and the seemingly very reluctant object of his affection.

_Talk about a minefield…._

"Is there anything more I can do for him?" Isabella's voice was still strained with fear and worry as she looked up. "I hate seeing him like this."

Edward sighed, the chorus of incoherent babbling still flowing from his patient's lips. "For now I think you've done all that you can. Why don't you go upstairs to take a nap or something? You look like you're dead on your feet and I'm pretty sure it's going to be a while before he's lucid enough to realize what's going on again. We can't do anything for him right now but wait and leave him in peace."

She looked conflicted, her arms wrapped around her body so tightly he was afraid she was hurting herself. "I don't know…"

"I'll come get you as soon as something changes," Edward insisted. "Trust me? If you wear yourself out or end up getting sick, there will be nothing I can do to stop Aro from being admitted to Forks General." He knew he wasn't playing fair but to hell with that. He'd do anything to keep her safe and well.

"You'll get me as soon as something happens?" she breathed, her eyes shooting nervously from the old man to Edward as she reluctantly took a small step away from the bed.

He nodded, taking over the space she'd vacated as she slowly backed out of the room, her footsteps echoing on the stairs as he breathed in the air that still faintly smelled of her. He wished they had more time to talk or just sit together. She still looked so lost and broken and there was nothing he wanted to do more than wrap his arms around her and comfort her, even though he knew he couldn't. And they hadn't even talked about what happened at the hospital either…

But he knew it wasn't the right time for that discussion. James needed his constant attention, at least until he woke up enough for him to assess the damage done by the fall, and Isabella…she looked dead on her feet. The last thing she needed was for him to bother her.

So he sat in a chair next to the old man's bed, fighting his urge to get up and walk around; maybe snoop around a little to find out more about James and Isabella. As much as he wanted to know more, he knew better than to give into his curiosity. Apart from it being completely unprofessional, he knew he wasn't anywhere near sneaky enough to get away with it without being caught.

He didn't know how much time had passed until the patient started to stir, his mumblings further apart and richer in meaning as he slowly traveled back towards the land of the living until his eyes shot open again as he crossed back into full consciousness.

He sat up a little, his body struggling to meet his mind's demands as he stared around the room in utter bewilderment, his eyes widening as they finally came to rest on Edward. "Doctor Masen? What are you doing here?"

"You took a fall down the stairs," Edward explained, noting the man's confusion and embarrassment at being caught in a weakened state. "Isabella came to the Cullens' to get help."

"Isabella!" he gasped, his body restless. "Where is she?"

"She was terribly worried about you and exhausted, so I sent her upstairs to rest, too," Edward answered in his most authoritative voice. "I could get her for you if you want?" In fact, he probably should, given the promise he'd made.

James, however, shook his head. "Let her rest for a little longer while you explain to me why I have a doctor sitting vigil in my bedroom."

Edward nodded. "It was either I stay here for the night to keep an eye on you or have you brought into Forks General for observation."

"Forks General?" James' brows set into a deep frown, the set of his face immediately letting Edward know how much the man disliked even the idea of going to hospital. "There was talk of hospital admission?"

"Without the confirmation of x-rays, we couldn't be sure that there weren't any breaks," Edward confirmed. "Isabella fought really hard to keep you here."

"She did now, did she?" James seemed very pleased with that bit of information, his head small as it leaned into the stack of pillows as he stared at the wall. "Then, she did good, for I have no desire to spend my final days wilting away in a sterile environment. I need to be here."

"She told us as much," Edward, again, nodded. "Now with your permission, I'd like to ascertain if there are any breaks we didn't catch during our initial assessment. Could you please, very carefully, move your arms and legs and tell me how they feel?"

They slowly went through the motions of the most thorough checkup Edward could execute without the luxury of radiology, his relief growing with every bone and joint that appeared to be fine until, in the end, he could cautiously conclude that James Harrison was one of the luckiest people alive. No breaks, just a few bruises, the most important of which on the man's ego.

"Shall I go get Isabella now while you try to rest?" he suggested, observing how all of the upheaval had worn the old man out_. There's bound to be deterioration in his situation after this. _

James nodded, his body relaxing as he closed his eyes, drifting off into the only state of rest he could get; the one halfway between sleeping and waking.

He let him be, his body stiff as he got up and walked out of the room only to come to a sudden and complete standstill on the threshold, his mind just mustering the presence to close the door before he addressed the person sitting on the stairs. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Isabella shrugged. "Long enough to know he's going to be okay." She let out a deep breath, her eyes fixed to the bottom steps. "And don't bother apologizing for not coming to get me. I know why you didn't."

"I didn't know how long his lucidity would hold," he explained, "and I had to be as sure as I could that he wasn't in any immediate danger." She looked so small, sitting halfway down the stairs in nothing but a flimsy nightdress and a blue vest, but even in her time of need he could still see that old stubbornness shining through. It would be pointless to ask her to put on something warmer, he knew that, even if he was worried she was making herself sick. "Besides, I wanted you to get some rest."

"I know," she muttered, looking down at her bare feet. "You're taking good care of him. Better than I ever could."

"That's nonsense!" Edward growled, her eyes widening with shock as he strode up the stairs and took a seat next to her before speaking again. "You're giving up your life to take care of him. That's _something_, Isabella. In fact, it's something I don't think many people would even _consider_ doing."

She shrugged. "It's a small thing."

"Really?" he arched his brow. "You live in the middle of nowhere with a dying man who expects you to live a life that went out of fashion over half a century ago while acting as his nurse, housekeeper and fucking personal assistant and you call that nothing?"

"Fine then, it's _something_." She rolled her eyes as she gripped the sleeves of her cardigan with her hands, making most of the bare skin disappear inside the sleeves. "But if you know where I'm coming from, you'd know that it's not that big of a sacrifice really." She blushed, knowing she'd said too much.

"Then tell me," Edward insisted, his shoulders tensing as the importance of the precipice they were standing on started to seep through. _Jump now and you're in this forever, whatever it is_. He took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst, though he wasn't quite sure what that was. "I meant what I said the other day, Isabella. I want to get to know you. The _real_ you."

"He saved my life." Isabella didn't look at him as she spoke, her eyes trained to the closed door. "I was living on the streets when he found me, trying to do whatever I could to survive without having to sell the only thing I had left."

Edward's hands clenched around the edge of the step. She didn't have to say the words to make it perfectly clear what she was meaning. _Her body. She didn't want to sell her body._

"It would have made everything pointless if I'd done that," she continued, her voice shaky but the flow of words steady as she told him her story. Or at least the parts of it she was ready to share. "It was hard, though. The shelters were always full and stealing food…it felt bad, no matter how much I needed it to keep myself alive. There was always the risk of getting caught and….and I knew my father – my _real_ dad – would have been so disappointed in me if he knew I was taking things that didn't belong to me." Finally she looked up, her eyes wrecked with tears as she forced her lips into a small smile. "He was a cop, you know. He died in a drug store shootout when I was four. I don't even remember him anymore but still…I want to make him proud."

"I'm sure he's proud of what you're doing right now," Edward spoke. It was nothing but it was all he could offer her at the moment as his heart broke even further for this strange, strong woman.

She shrugged again, not all that impressed by the magnitude of his good words from the looks of it. "Anyway, Aro…he found me when I needed him most, offered me a roof over my head and food in my stomach as long as I went along with him." She chuckled bitterly, picking at a few loose bits of wool, hanging from her cardigan. "I didn't believe him at first. I thought it was just some ruse to get in my pants or sell me off into slavery or something…It wasn't until he took me to his doctor that I realized he was for real."

"What did you do, then?" he asked as she trailed off into thought. There were so many questions he was dying to ask but he knew, instinctually, that now wasn't the time to ask them. She'd tell him more when she was ready. That was the way she operated.

"What did you think?" she chuckled, looking at him as if he'd gone out of his mind. "I took the damn offer. It wasn't like living with him was going to get any worse than being out on the street and given what I knew about his disease…" She shrugged, her smile slowly tapering off. "I knew I could take him, if worst came to worse."

"So what are you to him?" He asked, wanting to get this straight even though he already knew. "His caretaker?"

"I guess," she sighed. "I guess this blows my cover, huh?"

He grinned, trying to lighten the mood even though his head was spinning with everything she'd just told him. "I always had my suspicions."

"I figured you might." She smiled wryly. "You were always too damn smart for your own good. It's what scared the crap out of me from the start."

"You were scared of me?" He arched his brow in disbelief as he looked back at her. "Sure didn't look like it."

She laughed darkly. "I had to do something to keep you from coming back, didn't I? I couldn't risk being out on the streets again just because some snotty, big city doctor barged in and elbowed me out of the way."

_Oh. _Suddenly it all clicked; her abrasive behavior, her reluctance to even let him past the front door…even the things she'd just told him about being afraid of him. It wasn't _him_ she feared but the threat to her position having him around meant. "So you decided to push me away?" he asked, needing her to confirm it.

She nodded, her grin self-deprecating as she averted her eyes again. "I tried too damn hard that, in the end, the old man started to get suspicious of me. Not that it did a damn thing, though."

"No?" His heart was beating so fast he was afraid she could hear it as he waited anxiously for her to explain.

Isabella shrugged, her eyes clear and full of honesty as they once again connected with his. "You're in my head too and, no matter what I do or how hard I try to fight it, I can't get you out of there again."

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_**Thoughts? **_


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 19. **

_**The morning after.**_

He was in her head. Edward smiled as he wiped away the condensation of his fogged over bathroom mirror. She was feeling the same about him as he did about her._ Now if only he could be in her heart as well…._

His jubilation was almost childish, the tiredness so clear in the bags under his eyes and the sluggishness of his movements not really registering in his brain as he thought back on the night behind him.

It was one of the best nights of his life, spent with the woman who was slowly starting to occupy a bigger and bigger piece of his heart. And they hadn't even done that much. He hadn't touched her or kissed her or even shaken her hand goodbye as he left the house that morning. He knew it was still too soon for all of those things. If there was anything he'd learned about Isabella, it was that she needed time to ease into things. Over rush stuff and her defenses would come up faster than you could apologize. They'd talked, though, throughout most of the night; getting to know each other one silly question at the time as they played a game he hadn't played since his first year of college.

Twenty questions. Who would have known?

He knew she was still editing when they talked about her life. The parts of her life that had happened before Aro Volturi had found her on the streets in Los Angeles were still as unknown to him as they had been before. But as to everything else? He was finally starting to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together.

She was fascinating and broken, bewitching and lonely, strong and yet so frail that he was afraid he'd break her if he would, in the end, allow himself to touch her. She was an enigma even now and yet he knew what made her tick.

She'd told him more about her strange behavior during the first time they'd met, especially that day when she'd turned him away at the door. He chuckled, remembering her blush as she explained her rudeness that day.

"_We'd been writing all morning. Aro was having one of his rare, lucid days when he could concentrate enough to actually get some work done." She shrugged. "Well, enough at least for me to get to work on." _

_She chuckled when Edward gave her a strange look. "Do you really think he can still write a novel that's up there with the best of his work given the state he's in right now?" _

"_I guess not?" Edward answered, setting his coffee cup down. They'd moved into the sitting room long ago, the door open in case James needed them as they huddled near the warmth of the fire; Isabella in one chair and he across from her. It almost brought his back to when he was sixteen and helping his then-girlfriend babysit her neighbors' kids. Only less making out this time. Unfortunately. _

"_The trick is, though, to fix his insanity without him noticing." She smirked, unpleasant memories floating to the forefront. "I feel like I'm walking a tight-rope all the time…it wears me out. On the one hand I have to be his faithful assistance; jotting down every word he dictates and never even stopping to think about what the hell I'm doing. I'm just his shell…an empty vessel he can fill in whatever way he wants to and with whichever idea he wants to. On the other hand, if he asks me to read back some of the jumble he dictated at the start of the next writing session and it's his own sucky version of his words instead of the cleaned up, sharpened up, sensible version I spent a big part of my night writing he gets so angry and blames it all on me; like it's my fault his mind is turning to mush! " She sighed, her face glowing from the light of the fire. "So when you banged on the door…." _

"_I could not have appeared at a worse time?" he chuckled._

"_That's one way of putting it," she snickered. "For real, I thought you were a demon from hell, sent to this earth to torment me. I thought I was never going to have a moment's peace again!" _

"_So you laid into me," he snorted, cringing at the memory. _

"_I had to find a way to get you to leave," she shrugged. "I was determined to make the most of whatever time Aro had left on the clock and I couldn't do that with you hovering all over him, wearing him out with all of your poking and prodding until he slipped back into delirium." Her mouth twitched as she quietly sipped from her drink, her hands folded around the mug. "I almost ruined it that day. I've never been much of a liar and my statement about a lost tourist….it wasn't very credible to say the least. I mean…look at this place!" She laughed bitterly, waving at the open blackness behind the windows. "It's not like we're in a backpackers hotspot or anything." _

"_What made him believe you?" Edward wanted to know._

"_Nothing," she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders like she'd been doing so often that night. "But if there's one thing about this disease I like, it's the damage it's done to his attention span. He's easily distracted these days." _

"_But apparently not long enough to forget," Edward remarked, wondering if this might have been the reason, or at least part of it, for James' planned excursion to the first floor. _

_The hard set of Isabella's mouth told him she though that too. _

He sighed, closing the bathroom cabinet after replacing the items he'd taken from it. She was still so afraid. Maybe not of him anymore but of losing her life or in the very least her livelihood. _No one should ever have to fear like that._

Talking to her made him realize just how easy he'd had it. He'd gone through the worst of heartbreaks a person could go through but even at the blackest of times, when the only thing on his mind was when he could get his next fix, he'd never had to worry about whether or not he would be able to feed himself or have a roof over his head. For all of his life those things had just been there; matter of fact. He'd just taken them for granted.

He shook his head, the very thought of him throwing money away and living his life callously and without ever stopping to think about how fucking fortunate he was making him sick to his stomach knowing how Isabella had struggled to meet even the basest of needs.

_Well, not anymore_. His hands balled by his sides as his resolve grew. He was going to make sure she would never have to go through anything like that again; never have to fear again. No matter how reluctant she was to receive his help.

He knew that being with her – in whatever capacity – would be like walking the edge of a sword. She was too broken and suspicious to ever be wooed like a girl like Rachel. And yet, there was no comparison. He didn't want anyone else, not if it meant having his own needs go unfulfilled and waiting for her to be ready to give him whatever she wanted to share. For her, he would be infinitely patient. Still, he couldn't wait to show her what it could be like; to show her how good life could be. How good _love_ could be.

"Edward?" His mother gave him only a moment's warning before she barged into his room, her lips immediately pursing with displease as she caught him through the opened bathroom door. "You're still not ready? We're going to be late!"

"I'll only be a minute mother," he spat, steeling himself against the onslaught of passive aggressiveness that was bound to come his way.

"A minute?" She arched her brow in disbelief. "You have not even had breakfast yet."

"I'm sure Esme wouldn't mind me having coffee and a Danish in the car on our way to Seattle," he countered, quickly tying his tie around his neck and shrugging into his jacket.

"Esme might not mind, but what about me?" Elizabeth complained. "I never could stand the smell of coffee, let along the lingering stink of whatever sugary rubbish you choose to put into your body? It's impolite to submit other's to your bad eating habits."

Edward rolled his eyes, making sure his mother couldn't see him do it, as he grabbed his wallet and mobile phone. "I'm sure you'll live through it, mother."

"It's not a question of whether or not I'll live through it, it's whether or not you're being impolite." She narrowed her eyes, her tone acidic as she went on. "I thought I taught you better than that."

He sighed, preceding his mother down the stairs as he steeled himself against three more hours of nagging. "I'm sure that if you'd have spent all night awake with a patient, you'd be seeing things quite differently mother. In fact, I'd hazard to guess that you'd do exactly what I did."

He heard her sigh with displeasure as he went into the kitchen to scoop a Danish from the box on the counter and filled the travel mug Esme had already put out for him. _Bless her._

"I still do not see why you had to spend the night in the first place," his mother went on as he rejoined her, her complaints following him as he grabbed his coat and made his way outside to where Esme was already waiting for them in the car. "I am sure this patient of yours would have been just as well taken care off had he been brought to hospital…" Edward rolled his eyes as he got into the backseat and slammed the car door shut, his sister's mocking eyes scrutinizing him through the rearview mirror. "And to think of my son spending the night in the same house as that girl…"

The way his mother spoke her name completely rubbed him the wrong way, his voice betraying anger where before there had been only resignation. "You won't speak of her like that, mother."

"Why not?" Elizabeth was quick to pick up on the change of tune. "Has she already managed to sink her claws into you? I bet she did. Rosalie told me she was quite the clever little schemer."

"_Mother_!" Edward growled. "You. _Will_. Keep. Out. Of. This. Do you hear me?"

"I'm merely trying to keep you from making the same mistake twice," Elizabeth droned on. "I won't have you falling into the hands of yet another gold-digger."

Edward sighed. _Again with that old tune_. "Tanya wasn't a gold-digger mother. Her family had money of their own."

"Not nearly as much as we do," Elizabeth was quick to counter. "And she didn't have any _name_ at all until she married you."

"Is that really all that matters to you?" He shook his head as he let out a deep breath. "'Don't you want us to be happy?"

"Of course I do, dear," she cried out, indignant that he son would even dare to hint otherwise. "I just think that you'd be so much more happier if you found a girl more like _you_."

"This _is_ who I am, mom," he muttered, loud enough though for her to hear. "I don't want some snooty society girl who only cares about airs, graces and appearances. I want someone to know me for who _I _am, not for who my family is. Besides, I was with a patient last night, not out soliciting for the next Mrs. Edward Masen."

"I'm just looking out for you," his mother persevered, "and after everything Rosalie told me-"

"So now you're taking the advice of a _child_ over my word?" Edward spat. "And a child, I might add, who's been making the life of your own damn daughter a living hell?"

"Edward," Esme intervened. She'd wisely avoided getting caught in her family's tiff until then but felt the need to speak now that she was getting dragged into it. "I can fight my own battles."

"I know, Es," Edward answered, "But I don't think mom's aware of the shit that little bitch has put you through."

"Edward!" Elizabeth called out in horror. "Watch your mouth, son. I raised you better than to use such language!"

"It's true," Edward maintained. "I may not have chosen my words wisely but that doesn't make them any less truthful. Rosalie's not exactly the most trustworthy source in town and where it comes to the Harrison's she really doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Hmm." He could hear the displeasure in his mother's voice though, for now, Elizabeth chose not to comment. Why? Edward wasn't sure but if there was one thing he'd learned over the years it was that this matter was far from over. He'd do best to keep on his guard.

The rest of the drive passed in an almost unbearable tension, the three passengers of the car alternating between small-talk or overly extended and horribly awkward silences as the scenery flashed by; the greens and browns of the Pacific Peninsula slowly giving way to the greys of the city as they got closer to the airport.

"Now do you see why I'm always so happy to see the back of her?" Esme whispered, leaning in to her brother as they both waved their mother off.

"I always knew," Edward answered, "but I think I was just too spineless to stand up to her until now."

"Then what changed?" Esme arched her brow as she studied her brother, trying to look past the tiredness to see what was underneath.

He merely shrugged, his defenses strong as he walked away. "I got older."

"Right," Esme chuckled, silence settling over them as they walked side by side back to the car. They were well clear of the airport parking zone when Esme finally spoke again. "Do you have a shift today?"

Edward nodded. "The late one but I'm planning to spin by the Harrison's before that."

"The Harrisons, huh?" Esme didn't say anything else but the tone of her voice was enough to make her brother sigh.

"Come on," he groaned. "Out with it!"

"Out with what?" she replied innocently.

"Don't start, Esme," he snarled. "I know you must be dying to weigh in on last night's dinner debacle."

"Not really," she shrugged. "I was just happy to see you finally stand your ground against mom. If only you could do the same with dad…." She let her voice trail off, her attention momentarily captured by the crowded roads surrounding the airport. "And as for the rest…It hardly came as a surprise."

He cringed. "So you know?" It was no surprise to him that his sister had picked up on something. Hell, he hadn't exactly been stealthy about things last night. It didn't make the conversation they were about to have any easier, though.

"I know you, Edward," she insisted. "You might have been a good enough actor to fool my husband into thinking everything's still purely professional between the two of you– though I somehow doubt he's crazy or blind enough to still not catch up to anything after what you did last night – but you're nowhere near good enough to fool me. I know you. I see you."

"And?" Edward hazarded after an awkward silence.

"And what?" Esme shrugged, her eyes still on the road. "I already gave you my thoughts days ago. It seems pointless to repeat myself especially when I'm pretty damn sure I'll be talking to deaf ears."

He sighed, sensing the warning and worried hidden within his sister's words. "I know I'm being stupid, Es."

"But you can't stop yourself from falling, huh?" Esme chuckled. "It's what happens when you're falling in love, baby brother. I just wish to God you would have picked an easier candidate."

"Like you did?" Edward teased.

She shrugged. "At least I'm speaking from experience here. Is she worth the shitstorm?"

Edward took a minute to consider her words, knowing a hasty reply would only discredit him and the feelings he had for Isabella. "Absolutely," he finally answered, knowing it to be the truth. "Even if it all blows up in my face."

"I hope you're right." Esme sighed, her smile sad as she hazarded a quick glance in her brother's direction. "Because this is bound to blow up, one way or the other."

Edward nodded, knowing that, again, his sister was telling the truth. Even if Isabella wouldn't suddenly pull back again like the frightened doe she sometimes so reminded him off, the chances were big that Carlisle or James or both of them would eventually find out what was going on. There would be trouble regardless which way things went, and that wasn't even taking into account the fact that he was on very limited time. He'd already blown through half his time in Forks, only three more months and he'd be expected in Chicago again.

"That being said," Esme continued. "It's so good to see you finally falling in love, Ned. Isabella seems lovely." If there was anyone in the world who deserved to find out what love truly entailed it was her brother. He might have thought so at the time but Esme only had to take one look at him and Tanya to see that whatever deep friendship might have existed between the two of them, it had never been anywhere close to what real love – real, all-consuming and intensely burning love – should have been.

Edward snorted. As amazing as she was, 'lovely' would never have been the word he'd pick to describe her, no matter how feminine she dressed. "She's unlike anyone I've ever met."

"I know." Esme smiled, feeling quite excited about the way her brother's eyes lit up whenever he spoke about her. He really was in love. _God help him_. "Which is what makes her perfect for you, I think. So what are you going to do?"

Edward frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Esme shrugged," I suppose you can't really take her out on dates or anything seeing the situation she's in and the whole cloak-and-dagger thing. How will you make things work?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Edward admitted, knowing deep down inside that he should have. He could kick himself, knowing his sister was absolutely right.

"You need a plan, Ned," Esme spoke. "For the sake of your own happiness and hers, you can't just run into this without thinking it through." She shook her head, her voice muted as she added. "God, I can't believe I'm helping you. Carlisle would kill me if he found out."

"I guess that means we'd better make sure he doesn't." Edward grinned jokingly before he turned serious again. "And you're right about thinking things through."

He spent most of the remainder of their journey doing just that: thinking things through, planning ahead and thinking about all the little snags that came with seeing a girl like Bella. There were more than he could count. But not for one moment did he think about walking away. He wanted this – everything – with her, no matter how difficult it would be with her stuck in Forks with a dying man who couldn't be moved in the condition he was in and his time on the Peninsula rapidly running out.

It would be worth all the hardship, though. He just knew it.

Esme understood her brother's need for quiet time and switched on the radio, the soft Americana of her choice eradicating the silence without ever distracting her brother too much to pay attention to the music. She kept a keen ear, though, just in case Edward might want her opinion on anything. Because as much as she knew her husband would disapprove, she would be damned if she let her little brother Ned face the biggest challenge of his life all alone. He might not have realized it yet, but he was going to need her. She was sure of it.

By the time they reached Forks, Edward was no closer to finding a solution to all his questions and problems, though he had thought of a few things that might come in handy and so, with a small detour along the way, he made his way back to the Harrisons' to check up.

"How is he?" There was no need for ceremony as he walked into the house, Isabella greeting him at the door with a warm smile and an awkward shuffling of feet as they both tried to decide whether to move in for their first, and oh so important, kiss or not. They both wanted to but, as Edward tried to read her confusing body language, the moment passed as the door clicked loudly into its lock again.

"A little better." Her mouth was tense as she spoke, her eyes betraying her continued fear. "Carlisle left a few hours ago."

Edward sighed as he pulled her into a hug, contentment flowing though him in spite of the worry he felt over her as the sweet scent of flowers and Isabella invaded his senses. "Have you gotten any rest?" He pressed a quick kiss to her head, his nose buried into her hair, before he pulled back; reluctantly and with a heavy sigh. If it were up to him, they'd stay that way forever.

"He's been awake for most of the morning." She shrugged, avoiding his question.

He knew better than to press the matter, even though every bone in his body was screaming for him to _make_ her see sense; to beg her not throw her own healthy and sanity so lightly overboard. "How are his motor skills?"

"Lousy." She smirked and he knew there was a story in there somewhere; a story she would probably never share. "But his mental faculties are the same as they were before the accident. That's something, right?"

He nodded. "Has he attempted to write?" From the conversation he had with Isabella he knew that every day in the Harrison household – barring Sundays – ran according to a fixed and unyieldable schedule; writing time being a very fixed marker in the mornings, even if on most occasions James couldn't only manage a few scenes.

Isabella nodded a small smile playing on her lips. "It's where he threw Carlisle out. Aro's very protective of his writing."

"I can imagine!" Edward chuckled, knowing his patient's paranoia would most likely fix on the one thing he had the most reason to be paranoid of.

"He only managed a couple of lines, though, and none of them made any sense." Isabella smirked, probably thinking about all of the hard work she'd have to put into fixing his mess that night. "Shall we go in?"

It's when Isabella turned to precede him in the direction of the living room that his desires grew too strong to resist. "Wait!" he whispered, low enough for her to hear but not loud enough for his voice to drift into the living room.

She turned around, instinctively taking a cue from him and keeping her voice low. "What is it?"

He reached out, his hand closing around her arm as he pulled her into the dining room. "There's something I want to try; that I've been meaning to try forever, to be honest. I wanted to last night but I didn't think…." He growled, frustrated by his own blundering nervousness. _What was he, fifteen years old again? _

She frowned, his eyes almost crossing with want as she bit her lip and looked up at him in utter confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Stay still," he chuckled, leaning in slightly, as he brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Don't make a sound."

Her eyes widened as she finally caught on, her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips as she rose to tiptoe, her hands trembling as they grabbed hold of his and laced their fingers together. "Okay." It was a whispered, consent, uttered only seconds before his lips touched to hers.

_God, she's so soft….so sweet._ He had a hard time keeping a groan from rumbling from his chest as her lips pressed back against his, his mind barely able to resist the baser urges in him as he proceeded very carefully, taking cues from her and slightly pulling back every now and then to give her an out if she wanted to stop.

She didn't – _God bless her_ – her hands only pulling him closer as she wrapped his arms around her waist, freeing her hands to hold him too her as she let out a small moan, the sound muffled by his mouth on hers, as he deepened the kiss, a low, primal growl of pure pleasure rumbling from his chest as his tongue tangled with hers; softly and carefully exploring her and letting her explore him.

"Wow." Her voice was a breathy gasp as they finally broke for air, her eyes cloudy but wide with wonder as she stared at him, her chest rising and falling with shortness of breath. "I never knew it would be like this….I never knew I could _feel_ like this."

Before he had a chance to reply, the shaky voice of her master called out from the living room. "Isabella?" He could hear the shifting of furniture as the old man grew more and more impatient. "Doctor Masen?"

He groaned, his hands balling into fists as he quietly worked through his frustration. "Fuck! I forgot about him."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Isabella chuckled, blushing profusely as she righted her clothes. There was regret too, in her eyes, letting Edward know she lamented the end of their secret little rendezvous as much as he did. "I guess we'd better go out to meet him before he takes another tumble."

"Yeah," he pouted, hoping James' mind wouldn't be sharp enough to notice Isabella's kiss-swollen lips as he righted his tie. "Show me to him?"

"Ah! Doctor Masen!" James' eyes lit up as soon as Edward entered the room, nothing appearing out of the ordinary as he motioned for the young doctor to come forward. "It's so nice of you to honor us with a visit!"

Edward forced his lips into a smile as he stepped forward, taking up his usual seat across from his patient as he tried to act normal. Where that had been hard before, now that he'd kissed her, it was next to impossible; his desire to touch her, kiss her, take her away to a safer place and never let her leave his side again overriding all other senses. But he couldn't give in to it. Everything – her safety for starters – was riding on his and Isabella's ability to act normal. And so he pulled his face into a neutral look of professional good nature as he answered his patient. "It's an honor to be here, Aro. How are you doing this morning?"

"I am very well." He could see Isabella rolling her eyes out of sight of her boss as she made her way to the kitchen, both of them knowing the old man was lying. It would have been almost comical if the sight of him, a brittle and worn figure slumped in his chair, wasn't so pitiful.

He looked so old, so frail.

His visit with James went no different than all of the ones he had before, though the change in the patients' motor skills was marked. He tried to hide it by sitting in his normal chair and declining the offer of refreshments but even Edward could see how much it was taking out of him to act like his normal self.

It wasn't until Isabella had left the room to allow Edward the privacy to closely examine her 'uncle' that he finally caved, slagging into his chair with the exhaustion that marked a man who desperately needed the sleep that evaded him. "I do not know how much longer I can keep this up," he admitted, looking centuries older than his fifty-eight years.

"You're under no obligation to do so," Edward advised. "To have come this far in itself is a miracle.'

"I know." James winced as he allowed Edward to once again test the flexibility of his limbs. "But I am dead set on completing the final task I set out to complete. I refuse to give in until I've succeeded."

_The novel_. Edward nodded, understand James' desire even though he had a hard time believing he could actually pull it off. "How much more do you need to write?"

James smiled wryly. "Is that your not so subtle way of informing me that my time is limited?"

"I believe you've known that all along," Edward answered, "but yes, I think your actions of last night might have worsened your disposition."

"I was a fool to doubt her." Aro sighed, warily shaking his head. "She's taken such good care of me these past few hours. I don't know what came over me but she's…she's been so distracted lately." His voice drifted off as he reached the end of his strength, his mind drifting away as he slumped in his seat.

Edward wasted no time in joining Isabella in the kitchen, her hands buried in the sticky bread-dough she was kneading as she acknowledged him, leaning backwards so that he could press a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. "The old man's drifted?"

Edward nodded, quickly filling her in on what James had told him before he slipped away and urging her once again to be careful. So much was at risk. "I only have a minute before I have to go but there's something I wanted to give to you."

Isabella frowned, her head arching to capture his eyes before she pulled her hands out of the dough, understanding the importance of whatever was going on. "What is it?"

"I want you to have this." He pulled a small, easily concealable cell phone out of his pants pocket. It had been the first thing he'd come up with after his talk with Esme; the need to get in touch with her and for her to be able to reach him if something happened outweighing all other needs his body might have wanted to see fulfilled. With James' paranoia-filled brain making him dismissive of even the idea of allowing modern technology into his home (which, according to him was the government's way of controlling and keeping track of the people), the only telephones that were allowed into the house were his visitors' cell phones. In case of emergency or just if she wanted to talk, there was no way for he to get a hold of him. That needed to change. Her safety was more important to him than anything else and so he'd made a quick pit-stop downtown on his way to the Harrisons to buy a simple, pre-paid mobile phone. "I'll make sure you'll have enough credit on it at all times so you won't have to worry about the costs. I want you to be able to reach me any time, no matter what for…" He let his voice trail off as he studied her face, he fingers reaching out towards the little silver device as if she was afraid it was going to snap up and bite her.

"How do I use it?" she finally asked, balking slightly as he placed the device in the palm of her small hand.

Edward tensed, not having imagined she'd never handled a cell phone before. "It's not as difficult as it seems." He pulled her close, taking her through the simple steps needed to call him or send him a text message before he was satisfied that she would be able to reach him no matter what. "Shall we practice tonight?" he suggested, a look at the clock telling him he really needed to go. "How about you send me a text message or leave a message on my voice mail every hour? If you're able to do so, of course."

Understanding dawned on her face as he inclined his head towards the closed door between the kitchen and the sitting room. "Okay."

"Okay," he beamed, his pride at her guts and intelligence shining through his every fiber as he leaned in to kiss her goodbye. It was only a quick kiss, stolen at a time and place where they knew no prying eyes would see them but to him it was bliss. _She_ was bliss.

The net two weeks passed in much the same way; Edward coming over to visit whenever he could and bond with the patient while he and Isabella captured every moment they could to sneak off on their own, stealing kisses and just getting to know one another. And fall in love just a little bit more with every stolen moment they shared.

They never did nothing more than kiss and hold hands during those moments, not that that stopped Edward from fantasizing about what it would feel like to have her underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in front of him. In fact, it was all he could think of during his morning showers and on evenings when sleep eluded him.

He knew it was much too soon for any of that, though. Isabella – broken and beautiful Isabella – was as new to all of the physical stuff as she was to the whole concept of romance and romantic relationships. He would have to take it slow if he didn't want to scare her away or push her into things she just wasn't ready for.

So he sat and listened or, as was the case at that moment, played his way through one of Beethoven's piano concertos to divert James from thinking about the fact that he would probably spent the short remainder of his life bound to a wheelchair as Isabella sat next to him under the ruse of turning the pages of the score.

As always, James slowly drifted, her eyes closing as he sat in the trance like state that was his only source of rest. Which gave them some time to themselves.

It was precious time and Edward was determined to make the most of it.

"Do you still want me to teach you how to play?" He snuck a stealthy look backwards to see if they were still in the clear. "Because I could, you know."

He chuckled when she frowned, looking adorably puzzled. "You asked me to teach you a couple of weeks ago, remember?"

She shook her head. "I'd rather listen if you don't mind."

He smiled, his fingertips slowly gliding over the smooth skin on the back of her hand before he put them back on the cold, hard piano keys. "Suit yourself."

"To be honest." She nickered as she leaned in, her eyes shimmering with conspiratorial mirth. "I never really wanted to learn. "

"Then why ask me?" This time it was Edward's turn to be confused, his hands mechanically producing music to keep up the ruse.

"I thought that if Aro was so hell-bent on hearing life music, my best chance of survival was learning how to play." She shrugged it off as if it was a common, everyday worry. "I'm weird, I know."

"You're not weird." His hands stilled above the keys, the absence of sound forcing her eyes on him. "You simply did what you thought you had to."

"But I acted like a total bitch." She grimaced, checking over her shoulder to see if the old man was still distracted. "I'm surprised you put up with it."

"What choice did I have?" Edward chuckled. "If I'd have told you how I really felt, Aro would have thrown me out of the house immediately." His smile stilled as he thought about it. "He still would, I think."

"I'm sure of it." Isabella sighed, her finger running along the polished black wood of the piano. "I'm glad you didn't let me push you away."

He smiled, looking backward to see if the coast was still clear before leaning in for a quick kiss to her temple. "I'm glad you finally let me in."

Unfortunately James chose that moment to stir, his eyes opening as he slowly floated back into consciousness, forcing Edward and Isabella to act like their former selves again. Edward sighed, reluctantly shifting away from his Isabella as his fingers started to glide over the back and white keys again; the mellow notes of the _Moonlight Sonata_ drifting from the instrument.

"I see that you have grown quite attached." Both Isabella and Edward sucked in a sharp breath at James' unexpected words. "To the instrument, I mean."

"It is a fine piano," Edward nodded, his shoulders slumping with relief. _So close to misery._

"I should hope so," James chuckled. "I don't think the company of Steinway & Sons is in the habit of creating mediocre instruments. Though I doubt you've ever had to debase yourself to playing anything inferior."

"True," Edward chuckled, his fingers hovering above the keys, "but, believe me or not, it's a long time since I've ever felt this kind of _connection_…" His eyes shifted over to Isabella, nothing just in time how her cheeks were stained pink before she angled her face away. _Good. She'd noticed what he was trying to say._ "….to an instrument before."

It was typical for the way they learned to communicate during those first few weeks: always careful, sometimes open but most of the times conveying hidden meanings in words meant for other ears. It was frustrating but at the same time, those small snippets and clever hidden messages also gave him a completely new insight into Isabella's mind; a surprisingly clever mind, though not in a conventional way.

She was different. In every aspect of her being.

And in every aspect of her being, she became more bewitching with every single thing he found out.

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_**Thoughts? **_


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 20. **

_**The deception.**_

"I can't believe I get to see you in just two more days!" Edward held the phone a little further away from his ear as he chuckled even in spite of himself. _Alice_. It was impossible not to be infected with her bubbly enthusiasm.

"Simmer down, Ally," he fake-growled, not wanting her to know he was every bit as excited for her to see the life he was starting to build on the ruins of his old one. There would be no stopping her if she did and somehow he didn't think he or the world, for that matter was ready to face the full force of Alice Masen. "What did Carmen tell you about talking in a frequency that even bats can hear, again?"

"Oops!" she giggled. "Sorry, Edward, but I'm so excited to see you again! After everything you told me about the place, I can't wait to get down with the rest of the rednecks."

"Alice!" Edward groaned. "How many times do I need to tell you? Forks is hardly Deliverance-material."

"But it's like, the end of the world!" Alice reasoned. "I don't even know what to pack."

"Clothes?" Edward offered. "Make that _warm_ clothes. The weather's been pretty cold lately. Remember to pack enough rain stuff as well since it pretty much always rains or snows here."

"Got it!" Alice squealed, happy to at least limit the pick from her massive wardrobe. "So how's it going? What are you going to do today?"

"You know…just the usual." He shrugged, though he realized his sister couldn't actually see the movement. "I'm going out for a run later and then to work. Nothing too glamorous." It wasn't a complete lie because after all, he _was_ getting ready to go out for a run. He just neglected to tell his sister who he was running towards.

"So no hot little nurses eying you as you saw away at the sick and wounded of Forks?" Alice teased.

Edward groaned_. Damn television series!_ "How many times have I told you not to believe the crap you see on the TV?"

For some reason or the other, screenplay writers seemed to think hospitals had interesting cases and major traumas lined up at the front of the door while most of the staff was busy screwing each other in the on call room. And what was even worse was that as far as the latter went, they weren't too far off the mark. With doctors, nurses and other hospital staff working irregular and very long hours, most of them were limited to the hospital as their main stomping ground for picking up dates and hooking up. They simply didn't have the time, or the energy, to look elsewhere.

As far as the job went, though, reality was a lot less exciting than what Hollywood would have wanted people to believe. Most of the cases he saw on an average shift still consisted of run-of-the-mill trauma consults for heavy concussions, rule-out brain damage after car crashes and the surgical removal of tumors and the odd imbedded foreign object.

And a lot of the boring stuff, of course, such as getting a patient's medical history, pre and post-op checkups and doing paperwork. Somehow they never really included _that_ in those flashy TV series.

"You're not going to lecture me on the boring stuff again, are you?" Alice complained. "I just want to know if my big brother is having fun at work, ya know? I'm just looking out for you."

"Then you can relax, Ally," Edward chuckled. "I'm having all the fun I can handle."

"Good," she replied firmly. "So… no naughty nurses in the on call room?"

Edward cringed, remembering how close he had come to it being just like that. "Nope."

"But there is something…" Alice's voice trailed off as she pondered, while on the other end of the line her brother quietly cursed for not being stealthier.

"There's nothing, Alice." He tried to laugh it off but between his tension and the shock it sounded more like the sound a hyena would make. "I mean…I don't even have time for anything else. Life around here is pretty boring. It's just work, home and the occasional run through the forest or a church visit."

"I heard about you going to church!" Alice grinned. "Almost couldn't believe it at first. You're not changing the subject on me, though. Spit. It. Out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Alice," he groaned. "There's nothing to say."

"I know there is and I'm going to find out, whether you tell me now or make me snoop around this weekend," she replied, her voice fast and snappy. "You know how it is."

Unfortunately he did. Growing up around her he'd soon found out that his darling half-sister had some weird kind of sixth sense for sniffing out the secrets of the people around her. Even more so than his mother, she had a knack for picking up on all the stuff he wanted to keep a secret. It was almost like she was a damn clairvoyant at times."Drop it, Al," he growled. "I'm serious."

"Fine," she huffed. "For now."

"_Forever_," he pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed out. It wasn't like he didn't want Alice and Isabella to meet some day or that he thought of Isabella as a dirty little secret he didn't want his family to find out about far from it, in fact. It was just everything was still so new between them that he felt he wasn't ready to share it her with the rest of the world yet, even if the consequences of their secret being put out in the open wouldn't have had such a destructive effect on both their lives.

With that thought in mind, he was quick to steer the conversation back into safer waters, counting on Alice's short attention span to help him out. "So how are things going over there?"

"Great!" Alice chirped, her usual liveliness growing leaps and bounds. "Mom and I went shopping yesterday and she got me these amazing Chanel boots. You should see them."

"Right," Edward chuckled. "Ally, I'm a guy, remember? Pretty boots and overpriced clothes aren't really my territory."

"Yeah, yeah," she grudgingly acknowledged. "Anyway, Mom and I are this close to talking dad into letting me study art history after I graduate. I'm so excited!"

Edward frowned. "I thought you wanted to go to art school?"

"I still do," she answered, "but I know studying art history is probably as close as dad will let me get to it."

Edward huffed. Yeah, he could totally see why his father might be on board with her studying art history where he was vehemently opposed to art school. After all, in his eyes it was the difference between having your daughter work in some swanky, high end gallery and having her skulk out in some crack house with a bunch of other lowlifes painting stuff nobody wanted to buy. _His_ vision, not Edward's. As far as Edward Sr. was concerned, no matter how crazy talented she was, no good could ever come out of his daughter being an artist whereas selling art…

"Besides," Alice went on, "art history may not be so bad in the end and maybe just maybe if we can get Dad to warm up about the idea of me _studying_ art, he might not be so difficult about me _creating_ it in the end."

"Smart thinking," Edward nodded.

"But…" Alice knew it was coming, her eyes closing as she prepared for the blow of her brother's realism. They both knew their father too well.

"Don't get your hopes up." It pained Edward to say the words and he wished more than anything that he could do something to make his baby sister's dreams come true but they both knew it was virtually impossible. Their dad held all the reins and all the purse strings.

They talked some more before Alice had to go, her driver ready to pick her up for a day at school; the second to last before her trip to Washington. Edward couldn't even begin to put into words how exited he was to have Carmen and Alice visit him, though he lacked Alice's exuberant way of showing it. He'd missed them, both of them, and though he knew it would be extremely difficult to keep his secret from his family, he couldn't wait to see them again.

_His secret_. He smiled, pulling on his gym shoes and sweats as he got ready to head out the door. _Only fifteen minutes until he gets to see her again. _

"You heading out for a run?" His sister looked up from her newspaper as he flashed by, her eyes following him until he nodded. "Breakfast later?"

He had the feeling it wasn't so much breakfast as the opportunity for some quiet conversation, while the rest of the family was either at school or work, that his sister was after but, for the sake of being agreeable, he didn't push the matter. "Sure. I think I'll be back in an hour or two." _Two hours, that should be enough, right?_

He knew it probably wouldn't be but given the fact that he had to eat and shower before his shift started, two hours was all he was going to get. It would never be enough; no amount of time in the day would ever sate his desire for Isabella his _Bella_, which made accepting the fact that they were on a very restricted schedule all the harder.

It was their life together, though. He would just have to accept it and make the most of the time they _could_ find. It was the only way to be with her, she'd made that pretty clear from the start. And besides, as long as they cloud sneak in regular secret meetings, much like the one he was rushing towards, and talk on the phone at least once every day he found the separation to be just about bearable.

But only _just_.

Sighing, he thought back to a recently shared conversation on the phone; the small device both a God-send since it gave him the opportunity to hear from her even when he couldn't be with her but a torture since hearing her voice only made him more aware of the fact that he wasn't really with her.

"_I miss you, Edward," she said honestly, the ruse she'd been keeping up throughout their late night talk finally blown out the window as she let her true feelings shine through. _

_Edward sighed. "Me too. I wish things could be different right now, but we know they can't. Soon, Bella. We just need to be careful and stay patient."_

"_I can't wait for soon to get here," she answered with a deep sigh. "It's always too long until I get to see you again." _

He smiled, knowing that at least that morning it didn't have to be like that. Only a few more minutes until he got to hold her again.

Rushing through his pre-run stretch he took off, his legs as eager for the burn as his mind was to reach that spot, hidden beneath the dense trees and shrubs where he knew Isabella would be waiting for him.

And she was, his heart skipping a beat or two as her lips pulled into a smile the minute she spotted him, her skirt swishing around her shapely legs as she pushed away from the trees she was leaning against and closed the gap between them.

_Always let her come to you_. It had been the resolve he'd made the morning he drove back from the Harrison's after spending the night with Isabella, talking and getting to know her with James only a few feet away from them.

"You're late," she scolded, her smile eradicating all effects of her frown as she rose on tiptoes to meet his lips. He was too bowled over by her boldness in taking the initiative to kiss him instead of the other way around like it used to be, to notice the way her nose scrunched up slightly, though the tone of her voice and her words left no room for ignorance. "And you smell."

"I got held up by a phone call," he excused himself in between kisses, "so I doubled over here, hoping to make good on lost time."

"It had better have been one hell of a phone call if it made you late, sweaty lover," she pouted.

"It was. My little sister was calling from Chicago," he explained. "And is that what I am? Your lover?" He tested the word on his tongue, kind of liking how it sounded but not at the same time. He was quickly falling in love with the girl, which would make him her lover in the true sense of the word, but at the same time that word '_lover'_ sounded much too seedy for what he felt for her.

She merely shrugged. "Isn't that what we are? I have to admit that I'm not exactly a connoisseur of modern references, seeing as all I know of love comes from the pages of the books I've read, but all the same calling you my 'boyfriend' would be weird since you're not exactly a boy anymore."

"Are you calling me an old man?" he chuckled, kissing the shock from her lips and the blush of her cheeks as he took her hand, their fingers twining together as their feet found their way into the meadow. _Their_ meadow.

"You're older than me." She shrugged, giggling when he playfully lunged for her, branches and leaves crunching under her feet as she ran and he chased. It was the game they had been playing from the start, only now they weren't afraid anymore to show their true feelings.

"Then take it from this very _old_ man," he panted, his hands closing around her small waist as he finally caught her or she let herself be caught, he couldn't be sure. "I have no objections to being your lover, in whichever sense of the word."

Her blush deepened, her face flushed as she hid it in his chest, no longer repulsed by the sweatiness she'd commented on only moments before. It felt good. _Right_.

"How do you manage to sneak out of the house?" he asked, twirling her around the meadow as the winter sun shone on their faces. "You know? Without him noticing." It was a question that had been bugging his mind ever since they'd started meeting, sneaking in short, clandestine moments when he was supposed to be running.

She smiled, her small body falling against his as she lost her footing. "It's ridiculously easy, actually."

"Huh?" He frowned. If there was anything he'd learned about the life she was living over the past couple of weeks, it was that it was anything, but _easy_. "How so?"

"He might not be able to get any sleep but that doesn't stop him from arranging his schedule around nap times, or as he calls it: his regeneration sessions. It's why his bedroom is at the farthest, most quiet end of the house and he spent crazy money soundproofing it so he wouldn't be bothered by me puttering on around in the house." She shrugged, her feet halting as she drifted off into her own headspace for a while. "It's ridiculous, but hey, that's him."

"What does he do then?" Edward wondered out loud.

"Beats me?" Bella offered. "He doesn't read because I'd know if he took books into his room. I think it's kind of like he tries to…regenerate?"

"That makes sense." Edward nodded. "Though I can imagine it's hard."

"He'll live," she snorted. "Anyway…he keeps a pretty tight schedule: in bed at twelve, rising at six, breakfast with the newspaper, reading time, nap at nine, rise again at eleven, writing, lunch, writing, tea, nap until dinner time, drinks, dinner, music and reading until midnight when it's bedtime again." She droned up their schedule with the monotony of someone who'd had to live by it for far too long. "I'm supposed to do my cleaning and most of the cooking while he's resting or whatever he's doing when he's up in his room but that's not so bad." She snorted. "In fact, if I didn't have my alone time when he's resting, I don't know what I'd do." She chuckled darkly, scraping her Vans along the forest floor. "Actually, I think I damn well know I'd either kill him or go crazy. I sneak out through the stairs leading down from the patio whenever he thinks I'm napping. It's the only real freedom I allow myself."

"Don't you ever get the urge to just keep running?" He muttered as he picked up her hand again, his thumb running circles along that soft spot between her thumb and index finger. "You know, when you go out in the mornings?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"Why not?" He frowned, trying to imagine what would make her stay.

"I can't really say..." She sighed, pursing her lips as she almost visibly weighed her words. "I'm bound to the old man until he kicks the bucket."

"You mean like by a contract?" Already plans were forming in his head to get her out from whatever hold James had over her, the fact that he had a very healthy trust fund sitting in the bank for once not being such a heavy burden on his shoulders.

"It's not like that." Her lips pressed into a hard line as she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." He nodded, giving in easily as he knew resistance would get him nowhere. Her walls may have been on the brink of crumbling but, for now, they still held firm. There was no getting through them no matter how much he wanted to no matter how much he craved to see what was behind them.

"Your sister?" she changed the subject, her eyes apologetic as her hands sought him out, eager to retrieve their intimacy which had been lost when she held back from him. "She's the one who's coming over for Thanksgiving?"

He nodded. "She's actually my half-sister but I'm closer to her than I am to Charlotte."

"The oldest, right?" Isabella asked, her eyes tightening in thought as she tried to make sense of the intricacies within the Masen family.

Again, he nodded. "Charlotte….she's my dad's favorite and pretty much the female version of him, where the rest of us favor our mothers more."

"But still, Esme hates your mother." Over the days, his family had been a frequent subject of discussion; the ins and outs of the Masens both fascinating and frightening to her.

"She doesn't hate mom per se," Edward shrugged, hoping he was telling the truth, "she just hates the way our mother chooses to live. It's about as different from the life she's made for herself as can be." He chuckled. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Esme would pick mom over Charlotte any day of the week!"

"Your family is nuts." Isabella smirked, the pain in her eyes poorly masked as she quickly averted her eyes. "I thought rich people would have been happier than us poor folk!"

"It's money that made my family go crazy." He sighed, wishing once again that his parents had been born to a simpler life, or at least a less money-hungry one. "Sometimes I really wish my dad would loose every single dime he has in the bank, just so he'd notice there are more important things in the world."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She shook her head, her lips drawn together in a hard line. "Besides, I hardly think money is the real problem in your family. I think it's love."

He smiled, as eager as she was to lift the mood again. "I think you may be right."

He kissed her forehead, drinking in the sweet taste and smell of her.

"_Bella_."

He'd started calling her that one morning, much to her surprise. She liked it, though, her eyes were always shining and her telltale blush when he called her that.

He couldn't resist kissing her whenever she looked like that, and seeing that there were no obstacles in his way, that was just what he did; a deep groan rumbling through his chest as his tongue caressed hers, his hands bunching up the silky fabric of her blouse at the small of her back while her hands tugged at the small hairs at the base of his neck.

"I have to go." Her eyes were sad and her voice breathless as she pulled away. "He can wake up any minute now and if I'm not there…"

He sighed, not needing the words to be spoken to know what his extremely paranoid patient would do when he woke up to find his companion gone. She was taking such risks to be with him already.

"Go."

She nodded, her feet scrambling only a few inches backwards. "See you tonight?"

"Definitely." For once, Carlisle's caution had been his best friend, allowing him to spend more time with his girl as they studied their patients for signs of wear and tear after his nocturnal ordeal under the ruse of 'social calls' and 'dining parties'. He knew it couldn't go on like that forever, though, not with James getting worse with every day that passed and his time in Forks slowly but surely running out. He didn't want to think about it, though, not when he still had her on his arms, though he'd spent many sleepless nights vainly trying to work out a way for them to be together more permanently without someone needing to die first. "Seven, right?"

"Don't be late!" She winked, her laughter slowly dying out as she sprinted away, his heart aching watching her as she vanished from his sight.

He made his way back to the house at a more leisurely pace, his even steps measured to still bring him the burn he craved but, at the same time, not go too fast to enjoy the scenery. Even in the winter the forest was still beautiful; the odd shapes of the bare branches standing out more as the fallen leaves created vistas that hadn't been there before.

His sister chuckled as he ran in, stopping only a second to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before making his way upstairs to shower, just as he always did. And just as had become his habit of late, his thoughts were on Bella as he stood under the hot spray, his body slowly warming up again as his hand wandered down to where he was already hard.

It didn't take him long to finish, his skin red from the heat and his body and mind thoroughly relaxed as he dressed for work and trudged his way back down the stairs, his stomach growling as the smells of breakfast wafted up from the ground floor.

"Thanks!" His mouth was watering as his sister put a plate in front of him, his hands and mouth immediately setting to work as Esme fixed a small plate for herself and sat down across from him.

She smiled, rolling her eyes at her brother's eating habits. "How's therapy going?"

Edward almost choked on the bit of pancake he'd been chewing. _Wow. Talk about getting straight to the point._ He took a big gulp of juice to stop his coughing, only answering her question when his throat had relaxed again. "It's going good, I guess."

Esme arched her brow, her eyes contemplative as she cautiously chewed her own food. "Good because you're letting your shrink help you deal with some of your issues or good because you've managed to work out how to cooperate with Carlisle's terms without having to actually address any of your real problems?"

He cringed. _Damn, she is on to him._

He'd been good about attending his weekly sessions with his therapist in Port Angeles ever since he'd arrived but, to be honest, it was about all he had been doing just meeting the demands set by the hospital.

She shook her head, chuckling slightly. "I guess the look on your face says it all." A deep sigh communicated her displeasure even before she uttered the words. "_Edward_-"

"Drop it, Es," he warned her, already feeling the tell-tale pricks of panic shoot up to his skin. "I'll open up when I'm ready to. Not before."

"But will you ever allow yourself to be ready?" she challenged him. "Because it looks to me like you're determined to keep yourself closed off until this kills you. And maybe in a way it has already."

He smiled sadly at her from across the table, his hand coming to rest atop of the one she stretched out across the polished wood. "I'll be okay, sis. Let me deal with this in my own way, please?"

He could see she didn't agree with him but he could also see that, for now, she was admitting defeat, her head falling down as she pushed the bits of food remaining around on her plate. "I'll be here whenever you need me."

"I know," he replied solemnly. "Same goes for me, by the way."

She smiled, her eyes traveling out of the window to the spot at the end of her backyard where the plants faded into the tree line. "I think I may have to take you up on that offer soon. Rosalie's been behaving almost freakishly nice lately."

"Impossible!" Edward snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"You would have if you were home more!" Esme giggled. "I swear, the first time she smiled at me I was this close to taking her to the ER. I was convinced she was coming down with a fever or that aliens had stolen her brain or something."

"Does she want something from you?" Edward frowned, trying to come up with a solution to explain the inexplicable.

"I don't know." Esme's voice betrayed that she was as shocked as he was. "Carlisle and I are completely taken aback but, of course, very happy to see this change in her. I think it may have something to do with the fact that she and Royce aren't as close as they used to be anymore."

"What?" Edward sat back, his eyes amused. "There's trouble in paradise? Don't tell me the golden couple is on the rocks!"

"Not yet," Esme smiled back, "but I definitely picked up on some bad blood between them the last time he was over. I think that ever since mother left, Rose has had her heart set on the East Coast while Royce doesn't want to leave the cushy little set-up he has here. It may even be that mom's visit actually did some _good_."

"Well, whatever it is," Edward remarked, gulping down the last of his coffee. "It can't be anything but good for her to get out there, though I'm sure she will have no trouble finding new shallow and viscous friends wherever she goes."

"Maybe she really is willing to change," Esme spoke, sighing wistfully. "She and Jasper have gotten a lot closer over the past couple of weeks now that they are both home a lot more. Perhaps they can both find a middle ground together."

"Keep dreaming, sis," Edward chuckled, getting up from the table to put his dirty dishes in the sink. "We're living in Forks, not Utopia. I already shudder to think what it's going to be like when we throw Alice into the mix."

Esme made a face, though Edward had the feeling that it wasn't so much at the prospect of having yet another teenager in the house as the fact that it was _Alice_. And her mother, for that matter. As difficult as Esme's relationship with her own mother may have been, she had been behind Elizabeth one hundred percent when their mother had been pushed aside for a 'younger model her previous friendship with Carmen forgotten as she was set up to replace the matron of the Masen household.

In Esme's eyes their father's actions had been unforgivable and, flowing from that, so had Carmen's. To Esme, Alice's very existence was nothing but a reminder of the hateful way Edward Sr. had treated their mother and because of it, she found it very difficult to treat her little half-sister fairly. _Even though it's almost impossible to hate her._

"I've gotta go," Edward sighed, rubbing the still lingering remnants of sleep from his eyes. "You'll be nice to her when she gets here? To _both_ of them?"

"Of course I will." She shrugged, looking innocent. "I'm a good hostess, Ned. At least Mother managed to smack that into me. Now go. You don't want to be late with Maggie in charge today."

Edward cringed. _She's right._ "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Going to be out late again?" Esme's grin was mischievous. "You know? I'm starting to think you like them more than me."

Edward blushed. _If only she knew how much he likes one of them._ "Of course not, I'm merely looking out for them."

Esme chuckled as he hastened out of the room, his flustered state not evading her. "Well I hope they will be very _rewarding_."

Even Edward could discern the not so very subtle undertone in her words.

He arrived at the hospital well in time for the start of his shift, the routine of getting changed in the upstairs doctor's locker room before heading out to the board to see what they had in store for them already as familiar to him as it had been before, back in Chicago.

He sighed. _Chicago_. Every day he spent in Forks brought him closer to his date of return and every day he was dreading it a little more. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head as his eyes stared at the names and procedures written out in Maggie's elegant script, his mind on completely different matters. As reluctant as he had been to move out to the middle of nowhere, he had grown attached to Forks and, especially, to one particular inhabitant of the town. He didn't want to leave her even though he knew he had to. Too much had been invested in his career to let it all go again.

Too much money.

And too much pain.

"Hey, doc!" He jumped at the sound of Emmett's voice sounding from right behind him. "I didn't know you were working today."

He turned to see the boy in his easily recognizable volunteer clothes, his lips automatically pulled into a smile. "I wasn't supposed to but Doctor Banner asked me to fill in for him."

"Oh, right!" Emmett nodded. "Nicky's sister is getting married today."

Edward chuckled. "Is there anything going on in town that you do not know about?"

"I doubt it," Emmett grinned, his eyes scrunching as he tried to make sense of the board. "With both my mom and sister being fond of a good piece of gossip, I think there's very little happening in town that the McCarty's don't know of."

"So how are things going?" He didn't need to explain, Emmett understanding perfectly well what he was referring to. With Rosalie and Royce apparently having hit a rough patch, he wondered how things were going between her and Emmett.

"I don't know." Emmett frowned. "I did what you told me, you know? About the homework thing." He waited for Edward to nod before he went on. "She didn't exactly like it she didn't like that at all, actually but now that she and Royce aren't as close anymore she's…different." He shrugged, his frown deepening as he tried to make sense of it all. "The other day she actually smiled at me. I don't think she's ever done that."

"Good for you." Edward couldn't help but feel happy for him, even though he had his reservations about Rosalie and the meaning behind her smile. "Just make sure to stay on your guard around her. It might be another trick to get you where she wants you."

"She can have me any ways she wants," Emmett blurted out, blushing furiously when his mind caught up to his mouth. "I mean-"

"I know exactly what you mean," Edward chuckled, patting the poor boy on the back. "Just be careful, Emmett."

"What's this?" Already Edward could hear the sharpness in Rachel's voice was fake. "A volunteer, slacking off? That's not the way it's supposed to be, Emmett!"

"I'm sorry," Emmett mumbled, ducking away before Rachel could let him know it was all just in jest.

"Too serious, that boy." Rachel shook her head as she stared after them. "So… I see Banner got you to do his dirty work just as Nicky got to me!"

"Seems like it." Edward nodded, unable to hide the awkward feeling of being around her, even though Rachel had long ago indicated that there need not be any awkwardness between them. "Haven't seen you around in a while."

She shrugged. "I've been busy. Working a lot of night shifts."

"Avoiding me?" Edward offered, knowing he had been avoiding her whenever he could.

"Maybe." She shrugged again, her lips pulling into a wry smile. "You were right. It's easier this way."

It was. Over the past couple of weeks he'd found out that, no matter how hard they both tried to battle any signs of awkwardness between them, they both functioned best if they didn't have to work together. Things were just…weird.

Evading her, however, didn't mean he stopped caring about her or even stopped knowing about what was going on in her life. The latter was simply impossible, seeing as he worked in a small hospital with a staff particularly fond of spending every free second gossiping about other members of staff or inhabitants of town. And as for the former, even though they were never supposed to be together, he still remembered the evenings they'd spent laughing, joking and just _being_. She was the first person he'd been able to have that with ever since he'd gotten out of rehab and probably well before that and he cherished the ease of being with her.

He was genuinely happy to know she and Paul were still dating and, from the look of it when he caught them making out in the parking lot a few days before, very happy together. She deserved it.

However, as happy as he was for her, he was even happier to spend his day up on the surgical unit while she skipped back down to the ER.

His day passed as routinely as a shift at the hospital could go, with very few patients coming in from the ER, so that by the end of it, he was able to get all his scheduled procedures done with time to spare before the end of his shift. He could only wish all of his days went like that.

At least now, he was on time for his engagement at the Harrisons; his grin wide and confident as he waited in front of their door, his hair still slightly wet from the quick shower he'd taken and his tie slightly crooked.

"Good." Isabella tried to keep a stern face but he could see the edges of her lips trembling as she stood on the threshold; arms crossed in front of her chest and her beautiful brown hair elegantly pinned back.

"I promised, didn't I?" he chuckled, his eyes ascertaining if the coast was clear before he dipped down for a quick, chaste kiss. "How's he been?"

"The same." She shrugged. "He's still all pissy about being in a wheelchair but hey, it could have been worse."

"You mean he could have flung a salad bowl at your head and had you end up back in the ER?" Edward sighed, trying not to whine about the things he knew weren't going to change, even though he would give everything he had _sacrifice_ everything he had to get her out of there.

"For starters." Isabella chuckled, obviously seeing humor where he saw none. "His brain is getting worse, though, I think. We've hardly been able to get any writing done over the last couple of days."

"It may be the stress from the fall," Edward offered, though not even in his most optimistic state of mind did he believe his own argument.

Isabella shook her head. "It's different. We're almost done with the book, well, with the bulk of it at least. I think he's finally slipping; he's giving up."

He took her hand in his, his long fingers folding around hers, pressing slightly to give her back some of the confidence he saw slipping from her face. "It was bound to happen."

She nodded sadly, his heart breaking for her and the situation she found herself in. "Let's just go in?" she offered, squaring her shoulders as she bit her lip, determination creeping back onto her face.

He followed her into the house, the aroma of the elaborate meal Isabella had undoubtedly worked on for the majority of the afternoon greeting him as soon as he crossed the threshold. "It smells good in here."

She smiled, her confidence growing now that she was back in her element again. "Just wait until you taste it. I've cooked my specialty today."

"And what might that be?" He couldn't resist tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, the tips of his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek for just a little longer than necessary as they hovered outside of the sitting room.

"You'll just have to wait and see." Her eyes met his, her bottom lip once more disappearing behind her teeth as each drank the other in. God, did she even know the effect she had on him? How it was taking him everything he had not to just…pounce when she did stuff like that?

"Isabella?" James' voice interrupted their moment. "Has our guest arrived?"

She sighed, pulling her shoulders back as she molded her face back into its aloof state, preceding him into the sitting room as she announced their dinner guest.

His visit went as most of his 'official' visits with the Harrisons did; with him trying to causally wheedle out as much information as he could about his patients' mental state of mind under the ruse of talking about art and music.

Bella had been right about the food, though the rich Boeuf Bourguignon, fresh bread and creamy mashed potatoes managed to still only part of his hunger; the other part remaining unfulfilled as they both tried to be stealthy about their feelings, knowing the old man was watching them. And even if he hadn't…Edward knew better than to assume Isabella was ready for any of that stuff yet. They had to take things slow…_he_ had to take things slow.

"That went well, I think." Edward chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in the fresh evening air again, Isabella's footsteps following him down the front steps.

"Edward?"

He looked up to find her eyes fierce with some kind of determination. "What?"

She looked backward, her hands closing the door a little more so that no sounds of the two of them could drift back into the house. "Kiss me."

His eyes briefly flashed to the windows that were now bathing with light. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, her hands fisting around the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him closer. "He's in his chair on the other side of the house. The coast is clear. _Kiss me_. Or I'll go crazy."

"We wouldn't want that to happen now, would we?" He smiled, choosing action over words as he pressed his lips to hers, a satisfied groan rumbling from his throat as he caressed his tongue with hers, both getting lost in the sensation as they gave into their almost desperate need.

In fact, they were so caught up in one another that they didn't notice the single pair of eyes staring at them from the other side of the kitchen window.

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_**Evil cliffies are evil, I know, and this one is going to be even more evil since there won't be an update next week. I've got a good reason for playing hookie, though. This day next week I will be cycling up Alpe d'Huez (a hell of a high mountain in France) twice in one day (I must be mad) to raise money for the Royal Dutch Cancer Fund. I've been training me ass off for a couple of months now but I had to admit I'm crazy nervous about it. If you want to help my effort by donating please let me know. Since it's a Dutch charity and the whole site and donation process are in Dutch I'm going to have to talk you through it. Let's all fight together to get rid of this disease once and for all!**_

_**AS for the chapter…please let me know your thoughts. What do you think is going to happen now?**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 21. **

_**The aftermath.**_

"Doctor Masen?" Edward didn't look up from his hands, the arduous, yet almost routine, task of sewing his afternoon appendectomy patient back together after the rather routine procedure of removing the man's appendix requiring his full attention. "Doctor Cullen wants to see you in his office as soon as you're done here."

Edward cursed under his breath, his hands stilling in mid-air as he tried to shake off his frustration. It would do no good trying to put even stitches into the good citizen he was operating on when his mind was distracted by anger.

"Can it wait until tomorrow?" He asked, his eyes tightening as he finished up a beautiful, even row of stitches. "I have a-"

"A prior engagement at the Harrison's," the nurse Carlisle had sent to fetch him finished. "He knows."

Edward growled, shaking his head as he tossed his needle and thread onto a tray. "Unbelievable."

If his mind had been less preoccupied with the implications of Carlisle's request - less time with Isabella - he might have stopped to consider the strange nature of it. After all, his brother-in-law knew where Edward was going that night, they'd talked about it over breakfast, and he knew how important it was to be on time. Willingly putting Edward in a position where he would undoubtedly anger the one patient he should always strive to keep as his friend would have been a very uncharacteristic thing for him to do to say the least.

Edward, however, was a man completely addicted to the high of being in love and with Carlisle standing between him and his next fix of his beautiful Isabella, his mind was occupied by little else but the anger it evoked. _Detox_. It was an almost startlingly similar feeling to what it had been like for him when pills were the thing his world evolved around.

He should have known better.

He chuckled to himself as he realized that if only he knew just how good love felt, he would have started looking for it much sooner. Hell, he might never even have needed pills to get him through the day. Maybe Lennon and McCarthy were right after all. All you need _is_ love.

"Just make sure you get there as soon as you can," the nurse, now sounding rather disgruntled, added.

"Am I allowed to finish up first or should I just abandon my patient to the mercy of the scrub nurse and the anesthesiologist?" he grumbled, though his words never reached their target since the bringer of the bad news had already left.

"Can you believe this?" he roared at the mask-covered and rather uncomfortable looking faces of his OR team. They wisely chose to stay out of it, commenting only on the patient's vital signs as Edward quietly fumed across the operating table.

He sighed, forcing his head back in the game so that he could close his patient up and get him through the proper post-op procedures, his frustration rising with every minute that ticked away on the clock. He was already running late, then adding Carlisle into the mix and he would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do once he got to the Harrison's house.

Carlisle's back was towards him when he entered his office, the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hands were fisted at his sides finally cueing Edward in on the fact that something might be wrong, other than the fact that he was running late for dinner.

"What's going on, Carlisle?" In spite of his budding unease he wasn't completely able to keep his frustration out of his voice. "You know how much James values punctuality."

"You're not going to be late." Carlisle's voice sounded cold and detached enough to make the hairs at the base of Edward's neck stand on end.

"I'm supposed to be there in half an hour and I haven't showered yet." Edward explained, his voice raising as he shifted around nervously, his eyes glancing at his watch. "Unless you want to graciously offer to fly me out there in the hospital's helicopter, I don't see how I'm ever going to manage getting there on time."

"You won't be late because you're not going." Again, Carlisle's voice sounded distant, all semblances of familiarity had gone, leaving only the hospital administrator behind. Edward didn't like it.

"I'm not-" he frowned, wondering if he'd heard him right as his mind scrambled not to break out into a fit of blind panic. _Something was wrong. Terribly wrong_. "But I promised I'd be there. On any night I'd be more than willing to pull a double – you know that – but I can't leave them hanging. Not without a way to explain my absence."

It wasn't a lie, per se, even though his phone was burning a hole in his pocket at that moment and he wanted nothing more than to hit 'dial' and hear Isabella's sweet voice. He also knew that whatever she was doing at that moment – cooking dinner or spending time with James – she wouldn't be able to answer his call or text message, or even have the phone he'd given her on her body in the first place.

It was too dangerous, the risk too big.

"Well, then let me explain myself." Edward sucked in a sharp breath at the heavy sarcasm and venom dripping from Carlisle's voice, his panic rising to a boil as he waited for his brother-in-law to continue.

_What the hell is going on?_

"You won't be going over to the Harrison's this evening because you're no longer welcome there."

_He knew._ In that moment Edward was certain of it. What he didn't know, however, was whether or not they'd been discovered by someone else or if Carlisle had figured it out on his own. _Fuck!_ His shoulders tensed as his mind rattled with all the possible ramifications, the prickle of panic and nervous sweat tingling all along his spine.

"Yes, Edward, I know." Carlisle chuckled darkly as he finally turned around, his eyes livid as they stared the younger doctor down, showing no compassion for the pale, horror stricken look on his brother-in-law's face. "And because you'd probably want to know: James knows as well. In fact, he was the one who told me."

"Fuck!" Edward sighed, his body mindlessly sagging down in the nearest chair as he held his face in his hands, his whole world crumbling down around him. "Is Isabella-"

"She's safe, though no thanks to you. I saw her myself this morning," Carlisle was quick to answer, his displeasure and disgust evident in both his face and his voice as he shook his head. "How could you do this, Edward? You promised me not to get involved." Carlisle took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he spoke again. "You sat right there, in that same damned chair, and promised me not to get involved with the girl when, meanwhile, you went behind my back and did it anyway."

His shoulders dropped with relief, hearing that at least she was safe. It was all that mattered. His whole career could go to the devil, and his dad with it, if only she would be safe. "It wasn't like that, Carlisle," Edward defended himself, and _her_. "I swear I tried to resist it but-"

"You swear?" Carlisle laughed humorlessly. "That's rich, coming from you! How am I ever going to believe a damn thing you say when I've spent all day trying to clean up the mess your lies caused us?"

"I'm sorry." It was a genuine apology. As turmoil as his mind was at that moment, he knew he'd messed up royally and that the consequences wouldn't be limited to himself. Isabella, Carlisle and even James would be pulled into this mess as well.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it," Carlisle shot him down. "I stuck my neck out for you, hoping your expertise would outweigh the risk of having a fucking ex-junkie running around in my hospital. I put my own damn neck on the line and what did you do? The first chance you get, you throw it all back in my face."

"It wasn't-"

"Don't tell me it wasn't like that!" Carlisle boomed, interrupting Edward before he could finish his sentence. "Do you know how much effort I put into cultivating James Harrison's trust? How many visits it took me to even be allowed to examine the man when so clearly he was very, very sick?" He huffed, startling Edward when his fist slammed against the solid oak of his desk.

"There's a chance he won't even see _me_ again after the stunt you pulled, even when I've made it abundantly clear to him that I'm as disgusted by your behavior as he is. And have you even stopped to think about the consequences this is going to have for Isabella?"

He didn't wait for Edward to reply as he went on. "Between the two of us we were luckily able to convince him that ninety percent of the blame is on you, but even still…the damage has already been done. He caught the two of you kissing in his own home, for crying out loud. Isabella is lucky enough not to end up in the ER, let alone recover from the damage this has done to her position."

At those final words, Edward hung his head in shame. He knew he'd taken a great risk – they both had – and he completely agreed with the tactic Carlisle and Isabella seemed to have played out in front of James. Deep down it stung, knowing she would have probably had to denounce him and the strength of the feelings they had for each other but he knew it was the only way for her to try and stay on James' good side. _Anything_ to make sure she was safe.

As safe as she could be, given the circumstances.

He closed his eyes as he sucked in a shallow breath. They'd been so naive to think they could fool the world; foolish to give in to their feelings when they knew that spying eyes might have been on them.

How could he have risked it? How could he have risked _her_?

_Stupid! _

"What will happen now?" he finally asked, his voice broken and thick with worry.

"To you?" Carlisle wanted to know, his brow arching up in question.

Edward shook his head. "I don't give a rat's ass about what happens to me! I want to know what will happen to _Bella_."

"I daresay she will pull through this, just like she always seems to do." Carlisle's smile told him he knew as much about Isabella's tenacious tendency to withstand whatever storms she found on her path as Edward did. "Though I doubt she will ever have James' full confidence again, the way she did before all of this happened."

Edward nodded, full aware of the damage he'd caused. "And James?"

"He has agreed to meet with me once a week, provided that your name will never again be mentioned and that you never set foot on his property again." Carlisle sighed warily. "As to the nature of those visits, I can only guess. I somehow doubt he will ever let me get close enough to properly assess him, though. I'm too closely involved in all of this."

Edward shook his head, his frustration growing as his initial shock wore off. "But you knew nothing! He can't blame you for something you didn't know!"

"It doesn't matter to him." Carlisle shook his head, smiling sadly. "Nor does it to me. I'm your boss, I should have _known_ what was happening under my nose but I was too caught up in my own life and my own personal failures to see what was going on." He sighed, his eyes following the faint rays of sunshine that were trying to break through the overcast afternoon out of the window. "As much as _you_ failed your duty to your patient, this hospital and your promise to me, _I've_ failed you."

The sense of guilt was so strong he could feel it in his throat, making it hard to breathe in and keep his bile from rising out. "You didn't fail me, Carlisle. This is all on me."

"Oh, but I did." Carlisle's eyes conveyed the honesty of his words, or at least the honesty as he saw it. "I took on the job of mentoring you. That _makes_ me responsible. _Your_ failure is mine."

Edward shook his head, disagreeing with Carlisle even when he knew the older man – and the medical society along with him – would see it just like that. He had failed – _again_. "What are we going to do now?"

"Make do." Carlisle sighed, rubbing his face with his hands as he took a few moments to ponder the situation. "I don't think anyone involved in this mess is going to benefit from making this thing public so, as much as it goes against everything I believe in, I think it's best we keep this between us for now. The important thing is that we focus on James and Isabella right now."

Edward swallowed, nodding as he let Carlisle's words sink in. He didn't deserve the clemency they offered and he somehow doubted if Carlisle would have offered it had only Edward been involved in it. Being as it was, though, he had once again scraped through a situation that might have ended the career of someone less fortunate than he was. Though this time, he could not feel any of the relief he had felt the last time he was in the same position.

He only felt guilt. Guilt, and fear.

"Will you let me know if anything happens?" he asked, his mind, as always, going back to Isabella. "To _her_, I mean."

"I don't know, Edward." Carlisle held up his hand to stop him before Edward could interject. "I know you worry about her and from what I gather the two of you have developed a very special kind of bond, but I cannot promise you anything. You're no longer attached to this case so keeping you informed on James' health would be a violation of my oath and keeping you up to date on Isabella's…" He shook his head. "I can't risk having you barge over there whenever something happens that worries you and I think that's exactly what's going to happen if I keep you informed."

_Fuck! No. No. No. _His panic rose to new heights even at the thought of not knowing. "Can I contact her?" Of course he already knew the answer but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when Carlisle finally replied to his question.

"I think it would be better not to." He paused, his lips scrunching into a compassionate grimace. "In fact, Isabella has requested you do not contact her at all."

_She doesn't want to talk to him_. He nodded, absorbing the blow with the final bits of strength that he could muster. Rationally he knew, of course, it was all for the best; that she couldn't risk having James find out the truth after the lies she and Carlisle had worked so hard to convince him of but still….Not being able to talk to her, kiss her, love her? He wasn't sure if he could bear it. He needed her. "So that's it, huh?"

Carlisle let out another deep sigh, his anger long ago evaporated as he saw the destruction taking hold of the young doctor in front of him. He'd underestimated the depth of Edward's feelings for Isabella and for that he would forever blame himself. The guy had been foolish to give in to it – as had Isabella – and even more so to throw caution to the wind but that didn't make it any easier to see an already battered and scarred heart breaking all over again.

Underneath all his science and outward composure, Carlisle was a romantic at heart and it broke him to break up something strong enough that both people involved had been willing to risk themselves for it and cause pain to two people who needed love and happiness more than anybody else.

"I'll take you home, Edward." He pushed away from his desk, his hand clenching around Edward's shoulder as he forced the young man to get on his feet and move, knowing it was the only thing he could do for him right then.

He let Carlisle lead him, his own mind too numb to think about anything other than the mess he'd made as his brother-in-law steered him towards the black Mercedes parked in the honorable spot right next to the staff entrance reserved for the 'Chief of Staff'.

"Is there anything you need from your locker?" He asked Edward, waiting for him to shake his head before he started the engine. "I can have Jasper pick up your car later on if you want?"

Edward shrugged, his voice answering almost on autopilot as his mind was still miles away. "Yeah. That would be great."

The tension in the car was thick, Carlisle's resentment keeping him quiet as Edward, in turn, leaned his head against the cool window, his mind too busy to speak. _What had he done?_

He knew he was in deep trouble, even if Carlisle wouldn't drag him in front of a review board, he knew that the trust he had spent so many hours building was lost now that he'd not only gone behind his boss' back but lied to him in the process. _Stupid_.

And what about Isabella? As relieved as he was to know that she hadn't been harmed in the process, he knew there had to have been some kind of outburst. His patient – _former_ patient – was both too passionate and too afflicted by his disease not to have lashed out violently and with Isabella being the only one within range…

He sighed, his hands gripping at the roots as they dug into his hair. How could he have been selfish enough to even risk subjecting her to that? What had she been going through in the last twenty four hours? Had she been scared? Angry? Disappointed? Did she miss him as much as he was already missing her?

"I've already had you taken off rotation for tomorrow," Carlisle spoke and Edward noticed only then that the car had already stopped in front of the house. "Officially you're down with a nasty bout of the flu. Banner's taking over."

Edward nodded. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know I didn't." The sharpness was back in Carlisle's voice, the car jolting forward again as the automatic garage doors started to rise at the push of a button. "Given the state you're in right now, I don't want you anywhere near my hospital. Besides, I think you could do with a few days off to rethink your actions and their consequences."

In other words: he was suspended until Carlisle deemed him fit to go back to work. Judging from his words, that might take a while.

He knew it was probably for the best. If he had been in Carlisle's shoes, he wouldn't have wanted the ex-junkie anywhere near his patients and – more importantly – the hospital pharmacy either when his mind was in a state of acute panic.

It still hurt, though - not that it wasn't anything other than what he deserved. He _deserved_ to feel the pain and the consequences of what he'd done. _He_ did, not she. Not Isabella. _Please, God, let her be safe. _

Esme's eyes lit up the minute she saw both men come in through the door, her thoughts too preoccupied by the rush of dinner almost being ready to notice the state they were in. "What a surprise!" she called out over her shoulder. "Two doctors off duty at once? I never thought I'd see the day!"

It was only after she wiped her hands on a nearby towel and turned around to kiss her husband that she saw the grimness on both faces that she cued in on the fact that something was terribly wrong. "What happened?" she breathed, her throat closing with fear as she watched her brother trudge on towards the stairs like a complete zombie. She'd seen him like that only once before.

"Leave him be, Esme," Carlisle commanded, grabbing her arm to stop her before she could follow. "He needs to be alone right now."

"Tell me what happened." Her voice sounded far away, her ears straining to pick up on the receding sound of her brother's footsteps on the stairs. "Did something go wrong at the hospital?"

"Not exactly." He grimaced, his mind reliving the day all over again, his eyes watching as slow understanding dawned on his wife's face.

"Oh, no!" She clasped a hand over her mouth, tears already forming as her eyes shot frantically from the empty staircase to her husband. "How-"

"James Harrison caught them." It was all he needed to give in the way of an explanation, his wife knowing enough about the situation to put two and two together. "I take it you knew about all of this?"

She sighed, flashing her husband a guilty smile. "Edward has never been able to keep secrets from me, not even when he tried. Is she alright?"

"Can anyone be alright in the situation she's in?" He sighed shaking his head. "She's hanging in there but only by the thinnest of threads. We tried to spin the story so that it doesn't hurt her as much as the truth would have but still…I told her to take all the knives out of reach and lock her door tonight. I'm heading over again tomorrow to keep an eye on things." He let out another deep breath, his hands vainly attempting the rub the fatigue out of his eyes.

"I wish I could just get her to leave but, for whatever reason, she won't." He didn't tell her the whole truth, just like he hadn't told Edward, knowing that Esme was as bad at keeping secrets from her brother as he was in keeping them from her.

Isabella was as well as she could be when he felt her, he'd made sure of that, but the cost had been high. Between the two of them they had managed to create a ruse centering around a conniving doctor and a naïve, innocent young woman that had been convincing enough to trick his patient but Carlisle knew that, though the most acute danger had passed, the damage had already been done. He'd seen it in her eyes. And he wasn't thinking about the nasty purple bruise surrounding her swollen left eye. No, he was talking about the utter destruction in her eyes the moment she denounced Edward.

As angry as he was with Edward – with both of them – he still felt that neither deserved the bitter hand fate had dealt them, least of all Isabella. He wished he could have stayed at the house to keep James from acting on his paranoid visions but, neither his patient nor his caretaker, had allowed him. Even in the state she was in and the danger hanging over her head, Isabella still protected her boss; irrationally and with a tenacity that made Carlisle realize that calling the cops would be pointless. Isabella would never admit to abuse, no matter how far James might go.

"What are we going to do now?" Esme sighed, her heart breaking over her brother's fate.

"_We_ aren't going to do anything," her husband warned her. "I mean it, Esme. I'm already skating on very thin ice trying to cover all of this up. If word gets out about my involvement…" He shook his head, letting his voice trail off. "As much as I think they both deserve their happiness – even after the ridiculous stunt they pulled – there's nothing we can do here."

"Except for wishing for a swift ending to James Harrison's life," Esme muttered, loud enough for her husband to hear.

"You don't mean that," Carlisle answered, tapping his hand against the tabletop as he sat down in a chair. Though he was well aware that his patients' death would be the answer to many of their problems, he would never go as far as to wish for it. It went against the oath he took, not to mention his desire to heal. "What time will the Masens be arriving tomorrow?"

"Noon. They are catching an early flight out of Chicago." Esme smirked, her mind still not altogether reconciled to having her stepmother and half-sister under her roof for the holidays. Though, given the circumstances, it would be a blessing in disguise. "Maybe having them over will cheer him up."

"Let's hope it does," Carlisle nodded, "but you have to promise me one thing, sweetheart." He waited until he had his wife's full attention before he continued. "Stop him if you ever catch him trying to contact Isabella. Her position is precarious enough at the moment without Edward barging in like a mad bull."

"I understand." Esme sighed, pursing her lips as she wondered whether she was ever going to be able to keep her half-assed promise.

Meanwhile upstairs in his bedroom, Edward had trouble keeping to his own promises, his phone burning a hole in his pocket as he paced up and down the small living room, not even the smoothest of jazz notes enabling him to take his mind off the one thought that kept on swimming in his mind; the one thing he had promised not to do.

Call her.

His hands clutched the phone, pulling it out of his pants pocket as his thumb was already scrolling down the menu, the letters flashing by until he reached the 'I'. _Isabella_. It would be so easy.

_Just press the button._

He would talk to her, reassure her.

_Press it_.

Things would be okay again.

_You know you want to. _

"Dinner's ready."

He jumped, almost dropping the phone as Jasper appeared from out of nowhere. "I'm not hungry."

Jasper chuckled. "Esme figured you'd say that so she told me to tell you she expected you downstairs. No matter what. Give in man, you know she's only going to come get you when you refuse. "

"Figures." Edward sighed, shaking his head as he gave in, shoving his phone inside the pocket of his pants just in case she would call before shuffling down the stairs after Jasper. Resistance was futile when it came to Esme Cullen.

So he went downstairs and tried to act as normal as he could as he pushed his uneaten food around on the plate, his mind warping between worry and self-hate as he bided his time until he could go upstairs again.

But even when he finally managed to escape back up the stairs, he could get no rest that night; his body twisting and turning between the sheets as his mind kept on going back to Isabella – his _Bella_- left at the mercy of a madman.

_It's his fault._

_It was all his responsibility. _

He should have been more careful. He should have cherished her and looked out for her wellbeing but, instead, he'd been too occupied with his own emotions to even think about the risks. _Selfish, despicable human being. _

By the time the first, faint rays of sunshine started to push through the curtain he was already up and in his running gear, clutching to the last shimmer of hope as he snuck out of the house, his despair pushing his feet to speeds they had rarely known before as he ran for the one place that might end his misery.

The meadow. _Their_ meadow.

It was still empty by the time he got there but that wasn't surprising considering he was early, his heart pounding from more than just the brisk workout as he caught his breath and waited.

_Eight o'clock._

And waited.

_Nine o'clock_

And waited some more.

_Ten o'clock_

He waited as a light drizzle of rain started to fall, his body starting to shiver though he kept his eyes trained firmly to the spot on the far end of the clearing that Isabella always emerged from. Always, except for that day.

As the light grew stronger and the rain slowly started to fizz out, his hope sank deeper and deeper into the mud with every second that ticked away on the clock, until there were none left. He knew James' schedule almost by heart which meant that as the clock hit eleven, he knew she wouldn't come. James would be awake again and needing her attention, which meant that there was no way she could sneak out, even if she'd wanted to.

Which evidently she didn't.

He breathed out, small drops of water flowing through the air as he ran his hands over his wet face and through his soaked air.

The worst thing about it all was not knowing.

Not knowing whether she was really okay or not.

Not knowing if she resented him or not.

Not knowing if there was a way back for them…

He didn't know anything at all. And it was killing him.

Almost on autopilot, his hands now found their way into the pocket of his hoodie, his fingers already typing out a text message before his mind had caught up, his thumb hovering over the 'send' button for only the shortest moment of deliberation before they pushed. It was his only way of knowing; his only way of _trying_.

_Please let me know you're safe._

_I'm sorry._

_E_

His hands were trembling as he watched the tiny screen of his cell phone, almost willing it to respond. But nothing came.

He knew he would have to give her time. James was probably watching her like a hawk at that moment and the risk of having her phone on her was too big. He would have to be patient and not give in to the feelings of defeat and powerlessness that were threatening to take hold of him.

_Trust her. _

It was easier said than done, though.

His feet dragged on his way back to the house, his body stiff from being wet and cold to the bone for so long as he tried to push on, knowing Carmen and Alice would be arriving in Forks at any second. There were few things in life he felt less like doing than going into the house and act like nothing was the matter but he knew he had to. He owed it to them, to Carmen and Alice. They'd already gone through hell with him once before and now they'd flown all the way out to Washington to be with him. The least he could do was to make their visit worthwhile and defer his wallowing until they were safely on their flight back home.

He had to try. _For them. _

So he pushed forward, his feet sloshing as he traded the trail for the back deck, the voices of his already drifting in from the back door as he made his way inside.

Alice's eyes widened the minute she saw him. "Edward!" Her body careened into his only seconds later as she flung her small self at him. "I've missed you so much! Fuck, you're cold!"

"Alice!" Carmen scolded, though she too wasn't deterred by his waterlogged appearance as she joined what was starting to become a group hug. From her eyes he knew Esme had already told them what was going on. "God, Edward. It's good to see you again."

He breathed out, basking in the love of his family as he clung to them like they were his only hope of survival. "I'm so glad you were able to come here," he finally muttered, his voice overcome with exhaustion and emotion. "How was your flight? Did you make it okay?"

"I'll tell you all about it later." Carmen gently pushed him back, her eyes narrowing as they scanned his appearance. "But right now I want you to take a shower." She held up her hand as he geared up to protest. "No discussion. You're wet, you smell and you're almost frozen to a popsicle. Now go!"

It was only the first of many instances where she mothered him around during the four days she got to spend with her former charge, her motherly instincts immediately taking over and making her and Esme forget the problems between them as they worked closely together to pull Edward through.

It wasn't without difficulty; the stress of the situation he found himself in, almost immediately pushing Edward back in his old ways of coping. It was only when he found himself standing in front of the downstairs medicine cabinet halfway through his second sleepless night, his one hand clutching his phone in the hope that some sort of answer would come while his other rifled frantically through the mess of Band-Aids, iodine and other things he wasn't looking for that he realized just how much he needed them around.

If it hadn't been for Carlisle and his pre-emptive action of removing the narcotics to the safe, Edward would have fallen off the wagon that night, the call from his body for something to numb his brain too loud to resist.

Strangely enough, things got easier after that, his own shock at coming close to ruining so much keeping him from making the same mistake again; a quick call to his therapist - who didn't appear to be too put out to be speaking to one of her patients on the morning of a national holiday - an emergency session the next day and three days spent surrounded by light, happiness and enough distractions to keep his mind sufficiently occupied until Sunday morning.

Until church.

Knowing he would most likely be seeing her again made him equal parts elated and miserable, his hand clenching around Alice's as they walked in side by side in the middle of their group. Finally he would be able to see with his own eyes if she really was as okay as Carlisle kept claiming but, at the same time, he knew they would be under heavy scrutiny, both from his family and James. It would be almost impossible for either of them to communicate, and yet, he kept on praying for a sign from her.

_Anything_.

They were early, almost all the pews still empty as they slid into theirs. It gave him time to prepare but also to worry, Carlisle's stern looks warning him beforehand of what might happen should he fail him.

More trouble. For all of them.

Service was almost starting by the time they finally came in, Isabella, as always, immaculately dressed in burgundy and white as she crossed, arm in arm with the man who was keeping her from him.

Alice's hand squeezed his as he swallowed hard, watching her like a hawk for some kind of sign as she graciously slid into a vacant spot. She didn't once look at him, her eyes firmly on the alter as she waited for mass to start and staying there for the entire duration of Sunday service and she and James were out the door as soon as the final hymn had ended, the emptiness of the seats they had just inhabited making the truth inescapably clear to him.

She was gone.

And yet she was only a few miles away.

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_**Please, don't hate me. **_


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 22. **

_**The meadow.**_

"She's pretty. I bet the two of you would look really good together." As always his sister managed to flitter into rooms or, in his case, into the garden, almost soundlessly as her feet barely even touched the ground as she lithely crossed the distance between the back porch and the swing he was sitting on.

And just like a lot of times, Edward found it extremely hard to make sense of what she was saying. "Huh? Who are you talking about?"

Alice rolled her eyes, making no secret of the fact that she thought her big brother was a little slow in the intake. "Isabella, you idiot! I'm talking about Isabella."

"The same Isabella who, in church, ignored me during the entire service?" Edward raised one eyebrow as he stared her down, trying very hard to ignore the pain even thinking about Isabella tore through this chest. "I don't want to be belligerent or anything but I'm sure Carmen taught you that you need more than one person to be in a relationship."

It was hopeless. If her lack of response to the texts he'd been sending her over the days which followed hadn't taught him that, her behavior in church more than did the trick. She'd picked James and her old life over him and the promise of what he could offer her and he really couldn't blame her. After all, how long had they known each other?

_Only a few months. _

Still it hurt like hell with a pain that felt almost startlingly familiar as he welcomed it, feeling the need to pay penance for his complete lack of concern for Isabella's safety while he kept on doing what he had been for days: waiting. His hand moved up, his eyes glancing at the screen of his phone for the millionth time that day and a disappointed sigh leaving him as he shoved the phone back into his pants pocket.

_Nothing_.

_Not a single word._

Alice, unaware of her brother's internal struggle, meanwhile grinned smugly. "But you do still want to be in a relationship with her after all. I knew it!"

He sighed, the swing rocking a little more wildly as he pushed off with his feet, his frustration finding a suitable outlet. "I was never the problem, Ally. Isabella made it pretty damn clear that she doesn't want anything more to do with me."

"Did she say that?" Alice countered. "You know, as in… to your face?"

"She didn't have to." Edward averted his eyes, his hurt feelings still too fresh to spend a lot of time thinking about her, let alone talking it through. It was strange how crushed he was over this when they'd only spent so little time together and he hardly knew anything about her. _Yet he feels so much._

"But do you really think she would have?" His sister pressed, her deep pensive eyes burning into his mind even though he'd wisely decided to look the other way. "Because I sure as hell don't."

"So you're saying she's just avoiding the hell out of me for shits and giggles?" Edward snorted bitterly, his feet scraping against the gavel as he pushed off again, the sofa swinging almost violently as his sister pondered his words.

"Have you ever stopped to think about _why_ she's acting this way?" Alice finally spoke. "That maybe she's afraid of what might happen if the two of you got caught a second time?"

Edward sighed. Of course he'd thought of that. Over the past couple of days there hadn't been a minute _not_ spent thinking about her and about what had happened between them; his mind coming up with scores of different explanations and excuses as he mulled everything over. Still, in the end the conclusion always remained the same. "She would have let me know. If there was any hope for us…she'd have found some way to tell me." His eyes flittered again to the cell phone, the small electronic device he'd grown to hate so much over the past couple of days but still couldn't part with, for even a moment.

"Maybe he found out about her phone as well?" Alice shrugged questioningly, remaining hopeful where her brother seemed to be covered by a shroud of gloom.

"Yeah, and maybe Oprah Winfrey will sweep into town with Doctor Phil in tow to stage an intervention and have us hug it all out!" Edward snarked, wishing he could have a drink. A real drink; one with actual alcohol in it.

His older sister had managed to hide that too, though, knowing or assuming that if one path to oblivion was blocked, her brother might try a different and equally destructive one. _She is too smart, this one. _

Alice huffed, crossing her bony arms in front of her chest as she glared at him. "I'm serious, Edward."

"Who says I'm not?" He chuckled, barely avoiding Alice's fist as it came flying at him. "What makes you so relationship-wise anyway? I thought dad wouldn't let you date?"

"I'm sneaky." She grinned wickedly, wagging her eyebrows in a way that made Edward want to fit her for a chastity belt. "Besides, we're focusing on Nineteenth Century Classics in English at the moment. It's a hell of a bore but at least it's very informative on how to work out an impossible romance."

"So you're saying I should just read Jane Austen's books and a solution will magically present itself?" Somehow he had a hard time believing it would.

Alice's eyes narrowed as she shook her head. "It sure as hell wouldn't do you any harm to quit moping around and actually _do_ something. No solution ever came from sitting on your ass and being all whiney and shit."

"I'd _love_ to do something, if only Carlisle would get me back on the roster," he huffed, hating the way his brother-in-law had cockblocked his usual means of escape, even though he understood why. He was in no fit shape to be anyone's physician at that moment, no matter how much he craved the distraction of work. "Besides, I have you to distract me now, don't I?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Alice sighed hopelessly. "Oh, and you won't be having me around for long. Mom sent me to come get you because we have to leave in a couple of minutes."

Now it was Edward's turn to sigh, the knowledge that soon he would have to manage himself without his kid sister's perpetual cheerfulness to pull his head out of his ass or Carmen to fuss over him like the surrogate mother she'd always been making him anxious beyond belief. What would he do? What _could_ he do?

Nothing. There was nothing to be done. Nothing at all.

Only wait.

Wait and hope.

"You'll be okay, Edward," Alice smiled as she hopped daintily to the ground, extending her arm for him to take. "I _know_ everything will work out."

At that moment, Edward didn't have the heart to lecture her on the scientific impossibility of pre-cognizance so, instead, he settled for wrapping his arm around her and laving from her positivity as they walked back to the house. "I hope so, sis. I really do."

He was surprised to find Esme and Carmen locked in a lively conversation when they stepped back into the kitchen; their faces showing none of the tension that usually prevailed whenever the two of them were forced to be in the same room. _Well, what do you know? _Maybe his misfortune did have its perks.

As soon as they heard him come in, both women's faces turned towards him. "There you are!" The synchronicity in their voices was almost as scary as the way two pairs of eyes narrowed as they scanned him for visible signs of distress.

"Jeez!" he groaned. "I leave you alone for an hour and you turn into some kind of weird twin freakshow? What the hell?"

"We're just happy you're not swinging from a tree." Carmen, untactful as always, smirked shrugging at Edward's look of shock. "What? With the way you've been acting lately, that's not such a far cry."

"I haven't been quite _that_ bad, have I?" Edward sighed, catching Alice as she snuck off to the living room where he knew Jasper was playing video games - or at least, he assumed the loud noise of full carnage came from Jasper since Rosalie never played and Carlisle was back at work.

"Maybe not." She shrugged, her smile sad as she looked at him. "But you've been bad enough to have us worried."

"It's okay, Edward." His sister crossed the distance, her arms engulfing him in a much needed hug. "With everything that's happened over the past couple of months this was bound to hit you hard. Just don't pull away from us again, like you did the last time." She drew back, her arms keeping him locked as she forced him to look at her. "We want to help you. Please let us."

He nodded, his body almost boneless as he let her wrap herself around him again. "I'm sorry for ruining your holiday."

"Don't be stupid, Ned." The pressure of her arms intensified as she shifted, allowing Carmen to join their huddle. "You didn't ruin anything. I'm sure Carmen agrees with me."

"Of course." Carmen's voice was thick with tears as she nodded. "I'm so happy I could be here for you when you needed me and not be on the other side of the country."

He felt ashamed then, not for allowing himself to give into his emotions but for not doing so the last time he felt so overwhelmed by them. It had been a completely different situation, his pain and grief over losing Claire being no comparison to what he felt at the moment, but his need for them had been even bigger. He'd denied it back then, choosing to flee in drugs and deny anything had ever happened instead of facing his problems like a man and making use of the many arms that wanted to support him.

He'd hurt them, too, by pushing them away. He saw that now. _Never again._ He wasn't going to be that guy any longer. He was going to be stronger this time around.

Act like a man.

"Do you want me to stay?" Carmen asked as they continued to stand there.

He shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine." He knew she couldn't very well put Alice, who had school again on Monday, on the plane all by herself and besides, she had duties to fulfill back in Chicago. It didn't feel right keeping her from them and he sure as hell didn't feel like having his dad bark at him for keeping Carmen hostage.

"Okay." Carmen sighed, reluctantly disentangling herself from the huddle. "In that case, me and Ally need to get moving if we're going to catch our plane."

He nodded, stepping back stronger as they all broke apart. "Can you do me a huge favor and not tell Dad about what happened? I'd never hear the end of it." He felt bad about asking her to keep secrets from her husband but he knew his father would show no mercy if he heard of his son's latest failure.

"Of course I won't tell," Carmen smiled sadly, her thoughts probably wandering down the same avenue. "The two of you need to talk things out though, when you get back."

Edward huffed petulantly. "If he'll listen to me for a change."

Carmen's smile was confident and slightly devious. "I'll make him."

He nodded, though he couldn't share her optimism, choosing instead to carry her and Alice's baggage to the rented Audi that was already parked by the front door.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Alice and Jasper walked out hand in hand five minutes later, Alice blushing furiously as Jasper whispered something in her ear before letting go of her.

"What?" She grinned defiantly as she went in to hug Edward.

Edward grumbled, his eyes glaring at Jasper as his arms closed around Alice's slight form. "You're far too young to be thinking about boys."

"And how old were you when you got your first kiss?" Alice bit back, smiling smugly when the look on her brother's face confirmed he had been younger than her. "I thought so."

"At least there will be two thousand miles between the two of you." He comforted himself. As long as there were miles between them, his sister wouldn't be up to any funny business. Maybe the whole Jasper and Alice dating thing wasn't so bad after all.

Alice grinned back, choosing not to tell her brother about the fact that Jasper had applied to Northwestern, amongst other colleges, and could very well be moving out to her neck of the woods next summer. _Nope, there's no need to tell he bother._ She really liked Jasper and, if the hours spent talking together and stealing shy, cautious kisses were anything to go on, he really liked her as well. She needed him alive and in Chicago come fall if anything good would ever come out of it.

"Call me, okay?" she insisted, kissing his cheek as she stepped out of his hold. "I may not be an expert on relationships but I know I'm better at listening than mom is."

Edward chuckled, enjoying her scowl as he pinched her cheek. "I'm not so sure about that!"

"Whatever!" Alice huffed. "Just call me."

"I will." He knew he would, especially with all the time he had on his hands until Carlisle would allow him back on the surgical rotation. "Don't let Dad or anyone else get to you, okay? You're perfect just the way you are. Don't let him turn you into a clone."

"I promise," Alice nodded, looking quite fierce. "I'll hold the fort for you until you're back."

"I'm sure you will." Edward grinned, holding the door as his sister slid into the passenger seat. "And tell Claire I love her the next time you visit her."

Any sound Alice made was cut off when he closed the door but he still caught her look of shocked surprise as she registered his words. After all, he hardly ever spoke about Claire and never, ever, brought her up himself.

Things had changed, though. If he wanted to have a fighting chance at becoming the man he'd chosen to be, he would have to start owning his past. He owed it to himself, but most of all, he owed it to Claire. She should not be forgotten or pushed away to the darkest corners of his mind just because thinking about her was so painful it still tore his heart in two.

"What did you say to her?" Esme chuckled as they waved goodbye until the car disappeared from view. "The poor girl looked like she'd seen a ghost."

Edward shrugged, not really feeling the need to cover it again. "I just asked her to say hello to someone."

Esme frowned, trying to make sense of her brother's words and Alice's reaction but getting nowhere. "Must have been some friend," she muttered.

Edward smiled sadly, the memories of his baby girl grinning widely as she ran towards him, arms outstretched and curls bouncing around her head. "Yeah, she's pretty special."

His sister's frown deepened as she clutched her cardigan tightly around her fighting the cold, wondering what kind of woman her brother was referring to and breaking her mind over whether or not he'd ever mentioned a name as they trudged back up the driveway and into the house. "I thought you were in love with Isabella?" she called over her shoulder as she hastened back into the house.

"It's not that kind of 'she'." Edward chuckled as he watched her disappear into the kitchen, knowing his sister would have enough material to mull over for a while.

"You should have just come out and told her, you know." Edward hadn't realized Jasper was still there until the boy spoke, his long black hair billowing out in the wind as a gust swept by them. "Now she's going to pester you until you give in. She's like a bloodhound."

"I know," Edward chuckled, "but what would be the point of giving in without a fight when you can have much more fun this way?"

"Peace of mind?" Jasper offered, having experienced firsthand how fierce his stepmother could be when she assumed information was kept from her.

"True," Edward nodded, quickly changing the subject before Jasper could ask questions he had no desire to answer. "So, you and Alice, huh?"

If he didn't already know it, the moon-eyed look on Jasper's face as he broke out into a dopey grin would have been all the confirmation of the budding romance blossoming between Jasper and his kid sister that he needed. "Yeah," he beamed. "She's kinda special you know?"

"Of course I do. But are you sure about her?" Edward pressed, his hand closing around Jasper's bony shoulder in an assertion of power. "She's not exactly an environmentalist type of girl. I don't want her to end up getting hurt when you decide she's not for you anymore."

"I won't hurt her," Jasper answered with all the bravado of a young man confident that love and loving someone excluded getting hurt or causing pain for your beloved. Edward, however knew it to be quite the contrary. "She may not be the type of girl I'd usually date but being around her…it's different. I kinda just _know_ we're meant to be together. It's like…we only just met a few days ago but already it feels like I've known her forever. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Edward knew that all too well, his heart still bruised by the rejection of that same sentiment. Not that he was going to tell Jasper. "You know," he mused, tightening his grip on Jasper's shoulder, "dating my sister kind of makes you the enemy."

"I wouldn't know that." Jasper merely grinned as he shrugged out of Edward's hold. "My record may not be completely clean but I still consider myself an okay kind of guy. I mean…would you rather she went out with a jackass like Royce?"

Edward didn't want that. At all. But that didn't mean he was warning up to the idea of Jasper and his sister either. "I still don't like this. Jeez, she's just a kid!"

"She's almost sixteen, Edward," Jasper reasoned. "It's not like I'm robbing the cradle or anything."

Edward sighed, reason being about as far away from his mind at that moment as it could possibly be. "I don't like this," he repeated, narrowing his eyes at the offending boy one final time before he stalked back into the house, leaving his sister no chance to interrogate him as he went straight up to his room.

He sighed, looking at his bed. It was pointless lying down, he knew that without even trying. He wouldn't be getting any rest, not with things still so up in the air and the only person who could bring him peace not wanting to talk to him.

He got in anyway, his worn out body unable to support itself for much longer. He reached for the remote of his stereo, the mellow, melancholic voice of Nina Simone drifting out of the speakers only moments later as he leaned back, closing his eyes as he listened. Who knew? Maybe he could get some sleep after all.

Time passed as he lay there and listened, focusing on the music so that he wouldn't have to think about anything else. Nina came and went, followed by trusty old Miles and the Duke as the light faded and night fell around him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until the shrill beep of his mobile pulled him out of his daze.

His heart sped up and his fingers felt blindly for his phone, almost dropping the blasted thing in the process as he brought it to his face, not daring to hope but really hoping all the same.

It was her, the name blinking back at him. It only took a mere moment before he sprang into action, his thumb pressing the green button before his mind could issue a command. "Bella?" He breathed as he finally connected with her again. "Oh my God. How are you, love? Are you okay?"

Her voice was distant, almost metallic as it spoke back. "Meet me at the meadow at dawn." The connection was broken before he could blink, all of the questions he'd been dying to ask remaining unasked and unanswered as he sat with his phone in hand, his chest expanding violently with the ragged breaths he took.

The meadow at dawn.

She wanted to see him. At dawn. He could wait until dawn.

_Right?_

It turned out waiting for the first light of dawn was even harder in reality than it looked on paper, his feet having paced the short distance from one bedroom wall to the other for what seemed like thousands of times before finally the sky started to turn pinkish in the distance, his feet pounding down the stairs and out the door before he stopped to wonder whether or not a few arrant rays of weak morning light were enough to make his way through the forest without breaking his neck.

There were more important things to be thinking about.

They weren't, his feet stumbling more than once on his way there, not that it bothered him in the slightest. His heart rate accelerated up to dangerous levels, but not from exertion, as he neared the spot that had been the scene of so many early morning meetings, wondering if she'd be there as well; as impatient for their meeting as he was.

When she tumbled into the meadow – their meadow – only seconds after he'd arrived, he knew she was, the look of relief on her face as she spotted him across the small, open field made him feel both elated and pissed off.

Mixed signals. He hated them even though he knew full well he was quite guilty of sending them off himself.

But then his breath stopped as he noticed the faint traces of a bruise around Isabella's eye, the slight discoloring almost obscured by a heavy layer of makeup but still noticeable to the discerning eye.

That rat bastard!

He'd fucking hit her!

He had hit _his_ Bella!

_I'm going to kill him!_

His hands balled in fists by his side and he was gearing up to say something - or hit something - when the veiled, vulnerable look in her eyes made him stop short; the heavy taboo laying on this particular topic so present she didn't even have to speak the words to stop him from mentioning it.

"You came," Isabella breathed, timidly walking towards him. She was fully dressed, unlike some of the times they met; her body clad as always in the timeless elegance of mid-twentieth century fashion. Though her Vans still took on her feet clashed violently with the rest of her outfit.

"What choice did I have?" he answered truthfully, leaving it up to her to decide whether it was because he loved her or because of resentment.

It should have been an open and shut case, because really, what would he have to reproach her with? Everything she'd done, he'd done as well. He'd taken every risk willingly, though maybe not as carefully as he should have. If anyone was to blame, it was him.

Yet she hesitated for a moment, her eyes wary and vulnerable as they looked for clues. "Are you mad at me?"

"No." His reply came quickly and confidently, his right hand reaching up to cradle her face, a huge wave of relief rolling off his shoulders as she leaned into his touch. "Why should I be?"

"I denounced you in front of your boss," she whispered, her voice almost drowned out by the sounds of the forest. "I made it look like you were using me, _preying_ on me. And then I haven't talk to you for days."

"You did what you had to," he answered. "It hurt but I wouldn't have had it any other way."

"It hurt me, too, to say those words." Her voice was interspaced with sobs as tears rolled down her cheeks in thick drops. "It felt like they were ripping me in half." He didn't hesitate for a moment, wrapping her up in his arms as she cried, his chest only then feeling whole again, as he breathed in the sweet scent of his Isabella. _So right._

"Did he believe you?" It was the most important question of all; the one he'd happily sacrificed his career for.

She nodded. "He's still a bit iffy on the trust side but for once, his archaic ideas about femininity are on my side." She chuckled when Edward gave her a look of confusion. "In his eyes women are nothing but the mindless playthings of men. In his vision I was completely defenseless against your manly charms."

Edward snorted, pressing a kiss into her hair. It had been the other way around with them, actually. Against her powers of attraction he was completely and utterly defenseless.

"I couldn't get away until today, though," she went on, her fingers crunching the fabric of his college sweatshirt as she held onto him for dear life. "Spineless weakling or not, he was watching me like a hawk. I couldn't even risk getting my phone out because he insisted on keeping me within sight at all times."

"How did you get away now?" he was quick to ask, "without the risk of getting caught?" As much as he loved having her in his arms again, he didn't like it that she was taking crazy risks to make it so. It scared the living daylights out of him to think about what might happen if James found out the truth.

"By the time Carlisle came by last night I was dead on my feet since he wouldn't let me out of his sight for more than ten minutes at the time and the old man himself was so strung out he didn't even know up from down anymore." She shrugged, sighing bitterly at the cross she'd born over the past couple of days. "The good doctor ordered James to give me at least twelve hours to catch up on my sleep if he wanted his nurse able to actually do some nursing instead of keel over from sheer exhaustion. I have half an hour before I have to present myself again."

"I'm keeping you from your sleep," he muttered, noticing only now the deep purple underneath her eyes, his thumb tracing the lines left by lack of sleep and excess of worry.

"Nah." She shrugged. "It's been a long time since I got more than six hours sleep in one night. I doubt I could manage more even if I tried."

He shook his head. With every bit of information she fed him about her life with James Harrison he became more and more convinced that she had to leave. "You can't keep on living like this. It's not safe."

"It's safe enough for me," she answered, her voice sounding awfully sure about that. "Besides, with the way he's been deteriorating, it won't be for that much longer, I believe. I'll just have to stick it out for a few more months."

"But why not leave now?" He was close to despair, knowing enough of her stubbornness to be sure that no reasoning from him would ever stand a chance. "Anything could happen in a few more months. In the short time I've been here, you've already ended up in the ER twice. Why risk another injury…or worse?"

"Because I owe him," she answered. "He took me in when I had no place to go but, hell, when I was close to death even. I owe it to him now to see this through until the end. He's been good to me really; better than anyone in my life."

That was the second time she'd said those words; the possible weight of them only then registering with Edward as he remembered some of the things she'd told him before. "What happened to make you end up on the streets?" He'd always had a horrible feeling that it must have been something bad; something awful enough to force her to flee.

She was silent for long enough for him to assume she wasn't going to answer his question, her voice starling him when she finally did speak. "I was five when my dad died. I can't even remember him now, even though my mom always tried to keep the few memories I had alive." She sighed, her voice eerily calm and almost mechanic as she went on, as if only telling her story like it hadn't happened to her made it bearable. "My mom was the kind of woman who couldn't really survive on her own. She needed a man, you know? And it seemed like Phil was just the kind of person who'd look after her."

"Phil?" Edward asked when she fell quiet for a moment.

"I don't know where she met him. He was just there one day and never really went away again. My dad's parents were livid that mom was dating again so soon after dad got killed but, to my mom, it was the only way she saw to take care of herself and me." She sighed, shaking her head as she leaned her face against his chest, her words muffled but still audible.

"She wasn't the kind of person who could ever hold a job – not even waitressing or shop work." Her neck almost disappeared inside the collar of her coat as she raised her shoulders, her foot drawing semi-circles into the mossy grass. "I don't know if it was because of them or because Phil wanted to, but we moved not long after they met, all the way from Philadelphia to Arizona."

So that's where she came from. Edward's mind had trouble keeping up, wanting to store every single word she spoke to him for further reference as his senses were still overwhelmed by the fact she was there, in his arms, where he could touch her, smell her, kiss her whenever he wanted.

It was why he didn't like it one bit when she stepped out of his hold, though subconsciously he knew it would be easier for her to tell her story without him pawing her like some perverted maniac. "It wasn't long until we started to see the changes in him." She bit her lip, her hands trembling as she wrung them tightly together, her story obviously getting to the harder parts. "As soon as we got to Arizona he started to make all these new rules. We couldn't go out of the house anymore unless he was with us and mom barely managed to keep me in school. He told us it was for our own protection but even then I never believed him. I mean, we were living in Hicksville, Arizona for crying out loud. It wasn't like we were slap bang in the middle of the hood!"

His throat constricted as Isabella told her story, the path she was wandering down so familiar from similar stories his patients had told him or he'd read in the newspaper. Hearing it firsthand from someone he loved though…it crushed him. "Why didn't you get away? Why didn't your mom take you out of that mess?" He couldn't fathom any woman, let alone a mother, subjecting herself and her child to such a dangerous situation.

"She couldn't." Isabella shrugged. "She had nothing out there. No friends, no money and no place to run. He made sure we were both completely dependent on him. Besides, at first I think she still believed he would change once he got used to having a woman and child around. After, when all hope had gone, he threatened us. He told us there was no place we could run, that he'd always find us, no matter how long it would take and…and he'd kill us if we ever tried to run from him." A lone tear slipped down her cheek as she clenched her hands into fists. "By then we'd seen enough of his anger to believe him."

"Fuck!" Edward breathed, instinct taking over as he pulled her into his arms again, crushing her small frame against his as if to keep her safe.

"Mom tried to make the most of it; letting him do God-knows-what as long as I was left alone," she went on, her eyes clenching as the memories flooded back into her mind. "It hurt so fucking much to see the bruises or hear her screaming as he laid into her. I would have taken all of the pain if it meant being able to save her but she wouldn't let me….she wouldn't let me and she died."

Edward clenched his eyes shut as Isabella hung almost boneless in his arms, her body wracked by sobs as her pain became too much to withstand. "Did he kill her?"

"I don't know." Isabella had somehow managed to calm herself again, her face still buried in his sweats as she hung onto him as if he were her only means of survival. "She started getting sick when I was about fifteen years old but he wouldn't let her get to a hospital and then, one day, she wasn't there anymore when I came home from school." She took in a shaky breath, her shoulders pulling backwards as she steeled herself. "I didn't even want to go to school that morning in the first place since she was so bad but she made me, and I knew she was right. Phil would hurt her if he found out I was skipping class because of her. But then I came home and she wasn't there anymore and he told me she'd died that morning and he'd gotten rid of her…I'd never felt so guilty before. She'd died all alone because I didn't have the guts to stand up to him and now he'd even robbed me of my final goodbye."

"Shhh, angel," he whispered, peppering her face and hair with kisses whenever he could reach as he held onto her. "You're safe here."

"It hurt so much!" she cried, her voice broken in between sobs, breaking his heart along with it.

"Did you leave then?" His hand rubbed up and down her back, careful to not get entangled in her hair and hurt her, as he desperately tried to comfort her.

She shook her head. "I was too afraid and…and I wouldn't even have been able to. The first thing Phil did was yanked me out of school and all but tie me to the sink, needing someone to take over the household chores since mom was gone." She breathed out a deep sigh, detachment seeping back into her voice now that she'd gotten over the hardest part. "It wasn't that bad, actually. I missed my mom terribly and I hated him with every fiber of my being but he wasn't as bad towards me as he'd been towards my mom. Well, at least not as long as I made sure I did things exactly as he told me to." She chuckled darkly. "It's funny how being around him was the perfect training for taking care of James, isn't it?"

Edward couldn't see the humor in her words, his shock at hearing her story; the parts of it he didn't know, too big to feel much of anything at that moment. "Go on." He knew she had to tell her whole story but between his anger building up rapidly inside of him and her heart breaking in front of his eyes, he knew they had to be quick. Time was running out.

"It went on like that until sometime after my seventeenth birthday." She tensed up again as she got to the most critical part. "I'd had a feeling Phil was up to something before that night…there was something in his behavior that was just…off somehow. Anyway, he had some friend over that night, which was nothing out of the ordinary but the way they were looking at me was. Usually I'd make myself scarce as soon as they'd had enough food and drink to no longer need me but there was something…I just felt I had to stay within earshot and it was a good thing I did."

She paused to catch her breath, looking at him for the first time since she'd started her story. "Apparently Phil needed money and to get it, he was auctioning off my virginity to the highest bidder, to be claimed on my eighteenth birthday. I remember it so well….his friends were complaining about the long wait."

He sucked in a sharp gasp, his hands balling into angry fists down the center of her back. "What?" How could he? It was in that moment he wanted nothing more than to track down the miserable son of a bitch and kill him. Slowly and painfully.

Isabella went on as if she hadn't heard him, so caught up in words that had never left her lips before that she couldn't stop, even if she was running out of time. "I knew I had to get away before it happened, but, I also knew I couldn't just run away. I had no money, no friends…nothing. We were living in the outskirts of a small town far away from places where I could just disappear into the masses. If I wanted to stand a chance I would have to at least get my hands on some money and a means to get away without getting caught."

"Time was running out fast and I thought I could never get away until one night Phil came home from a party at one of his buddies places completely strung out on booze. I couldn't believe my luck." She smiled, pushing a few strands of loose hair behind her ears. "I waited until I heard him snore before I grabbed his keys and his wallet. I wish I could have taken his car because I might have been able to sell it for a good price but I didn't know how to drive back then so I just settled for taking anything of worth I could carry in my backpack and running all the way across town to the bus stop, praying Phil would still be asleep when the bus arrived."

"I still don't know how I did it but somehow I managed to make it to Phoenix without being found, hopping on the first outbound Greyhound bus leaving from the terminal without stopping to find out where it went. I think I only allowed myself to hope when I got off in downtown LA. I didn't even think about what would come next. All I could feel was relief to finally be out of his grasp." She chuckled bitterly, though some of the tension left her body now that the hardest part was behind her.

"I was so naïve back then, thinking everything would just magically work out from there. It didn't take me long to find out how hard it was to survive on only a hundred bucks when you had no diploma, passport or friends to help you out, and I knew nothing about life in the real world after having been held a prisoner for years."

Her shoulders slumped again as her smile turned sad. "I managed to survive for a couple of months living off the streets and surviving on charity and theft when I couldn't but I knew…I knew I wouldn't last like that. You know the rest." She shrugged. "James came along. He was in Los Angeles for some convention and to do some research for his next book and we just happened to stumble across each other one night at the shelter. He wasn't sick back then but I think even then he could feel the disease sneaking up on him in his bones. He needed a nurse as well as inspiration and there I was; the girl with the incredible story and a mind clever enough to keep up with him. He placed me at some posh finishing school to have me taught some manners and how to speak with a poker up my butt while he got the house ready and then, when he did become ill almost a year later, we moved up here."

"So you see?" She looked up at him again. "I owe him _everything_. He took me in when I was nothing and clothed, fed and taught me proper manners. I can't just bail on him when times get tough." She stopped him before he could say anything about the downsides of living with a violent, mentally diseased man.

"Living with him isn't as dangerous as you make it out to be. Really, I've lived through worse and I'll live through this as well." She smiled slyly and with a hint of self-praise as she mused, "if anything, my one true talent is that for survival."

"So then this is it?" he asked, slightly desperate now that she'd confirmed in no uncertain words there was no way she would walk away, even when she was being held a prisoner.

"I really hope you won't…that we'll find a way to somehow make this work again." Her lips pressed together as if to hold her emotions in as she took his larger hands in hers, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I know I have nothing good to offer but I've never felt anything like this for anyone in my life and losing it…it would be the worst. I mean, I loved my mom but it's not the same. Being with you…it makes me feel like somehow things will be alright; like I belong somewhere….and I've missed you…_so much_…when I couldn't talk to you or kiss you. I want to make this work…even if I don't know how."

He smiled, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that hopefully communicated just how much he felt the same. "You'll always have me, Isabella. I'm yours."

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_**Thoughts? **_


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 23. **

_**The cabin.**_

"_So then this is it?" he asked, slightly desperate now that she'd confirmed in no uncertain words that there was no way she would walk away, even when she was being held a prisoner. _

"_I really hope you won't…that we'll find a way to somehow make this work again." Her lips pressed together as she took his larger hands in hers. "I know I have nothing good to offer but I've never felt anything like this for anyone in my life and losing it…it would be the worst. I mean, I loved my mom but it's not the same. Being with you…it makes me feel like somehow things will be alright; like I belong somewhere…and I've missed you…so much when I couldn't talk to you or kiss you." _

_He smiled, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that hopefully communicated just how much he felt the same. "You'll always have me, Isabella. I'm yours." _

Her smile was so wide it almost made his heart burst from his chest, Isabella's lips communicating her happiness where her words were stocked by the tears flowing freely from the corners of her eyes as she kissed him over and over again until their lips were swollen and their minds dazed.

"So what do we do now?" he asked, his thumb tracing the path down her cheek wetted by her tears when they broke for a much needed breath.

"I don't know," she muttered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "I want to keep seeing you but I don't know how often I can sneak away."

"I know." He nodded. "It's going to be the same for me when Carlisle clears me to go back to work." It would be hard making this thing between them work, even when he had her in his arms, like he did then, he already knew that no amount of time spent with her would ever be enough. He craved her, like an addict craved his next fix, but he knew until they could find a solution to their problem, he would have to be content with the few stolen hours they could sneak in.

He hated it but he knew there was no other way. _For now. _

"It's my fault." She sighed tuning her head away. "If I hadn't asked you to kiss me right in front of Aro's nose, neither of us would be in this position right now."

"Hey." He reached out, his fingers softly pushing her face back towards him, forcing her to see that there was no trace of accusation in his face or voice as he spoke. "It wasn't like I was an unwilling participant. We both took a huge risk and it backfired on us. Now we just have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and start again." She nodded, his lips finding hers again until he'd coaxed a smile from her mouth. "We _will_ make this work, Isabella, no matter what it takes."

Her answer got drowned out by the beeping of her phone, signaling it was time for her to go just like it had when they had still been in a better place. "Shit!" she cussed, switching the alarm function off.

"Yeah," he sighed, already dreading the moment when she would be gone. "Do you remember when I first taught you to use it?"

She chuckled. "I couldn't get it to turn off and almost threw the damn thing against a tree."

"Not that it would have helped!" Edward chuckled, remembering how he'd only been able to stop her just in time before she'd crashed her new device against an unrelenting piece of solid oak.

"I have to get back." Isabella sounded as reluctant as he felt, the corners of her mouth twitching downward as she pressed her lips together. "There's…" She fidgeted, her fingers twitching nervously by her side. "There's a little loggers cabin in the woods not far from here. It's actually quite close to the house but it can't be seen from any of the windows. If…if we met up there we would be able to stay longer…you know, without freezing into a couple of popsicles."

He smiled, knowing what made her so nervous. After all, it wasn't just something for a young woman to invite a man to spend the night at a private little cabin in the woods. But she'd done it just now, in her own very veiled way. It made him love her even more. "Will you show me the way?"

She nodded, taking his hand in hers as she trudged him along through the meadow and onto the path that led from 'her' side of their clearing back to the house. "We're on private land now," she spoke, the track indeed having a different surface covering than the ones he usually ran along, though it was no less meticulously maintained. "Aro never gets out here – he _couldn't_ even if he wanted to because he'd break his neck five shaky steps into the woods – but since he can't stand even the idea of part of his estate lying in ruins – even though he can't actually see it –it's as well maintained as the house."

"Which, I assume, goes for the cabin as well?" Edward chuckled, deriving a huge amount of wicked glee from this piece of information. If only James knew just how well they were going to make use of his fastidiousness.

She nodded. "James always wanted it kitted out as some kind of servant's quarters. It's pretty small to actually work like that but it's got a just about enough room for a sofabed, a table and the tiniest of kitchenette's wedged in underneath the window. I know Jake sometimes stays there when things at home get too busy, you know, with his dad and his sister's little kid." She chuckled as Edward's face showed his disgust, his enthusiasm about having a warm, dry place to hide out with his girl diminishing greatly now that he knew it was actually Jacob Black's fuckpad. "It's not like that."

Edward remained skeptical. "Really?"

She pushed him, her best efforts still not succeeding in making him stumble. "Lay off it Edward, Jake's a pretty decent guy who's had a hard time. He comes up here to think, not to fuck. Besides, he even asked permission to use the place. It's not like he's going to fuck it all up by having crazy orgies in there."

"James gave him permission to come up there?" Edward frowned. It seemed oddly uncharacteristic for a man as suspicious and paranoid as James Harrison to allow strangers to camp out on his land.

Isabella nodded. "Like I said, the old man gets off on the idea of having servant's quarters. I think it makes him feel all 'Lord of the Manor' or something." She shrugged. "Anyway, it's not like Jake's allowed to live there or even stay overnight or anything. He gets to use the place to eat his lunch and rest up for a couple of hours on the days that he does his yard work. He has to check in and out every time and then James sends me in there to see if everything's still in order and Jacob isn't hiding out somewhere behind the sofa."

He nodded, though he still couldn't get over the fact that James had allowed Jacob Black to roam around the premises unsupervised where he had wanted Edward to stay close enough to check up on him at all times. It stung, though he knew he had no business being bent out of shape about it. After all, had he not gone behind the man's back to go out with his caretaker? "But he trusts him alone up there?"

"Jake's been with us almost from the start," she explained, her voice as dismissive as his was amazed. "He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he's got skills that helped us out a couple of times. I guess Aro thinks he's harmless enough, especially for being just a kid."

"Just a kid?" Edward growled. "The guy can't be more than two or three years younger than you are."

"And why do you think James trusts me – or at least he did until I decided to grow my own brain?" Isabella countered. "I had the whole youthful docility going for me; he could mold me into just the kind of shape he wanted while I still brought my killer housekeeping skills to the table to make sure he wouldn't grow hungry or run out of clean underwear while he was cramming Shakespeare, Virgil and Gibbon and all those other old, stuffy books down my throat."

"That's not the point," Edward grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the cabin, tucked away amidst the thick ferns and plush undergrowth which lined the transition from the forest into the Harrisons' backyard.

"Oh, I agree." Isabella's voice took on a playful note as she grinned at him, halting his steps as she grabbed his hands right before the spot where they'd come into view of the house. "I believe the point is, Doctor Masen, that you're jealous."

"Am not!" He knew full well that he was starting to sound like a petulant child but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he did care about was bringing the point across that he never had been, nor ever would be, jealous of Jacob Black; lawnman extraordinaire or not.

"Right." Isabella's brow raised in sarcastic question, her eyes flittering briefly back towards the spot where the woods ended and the gardens began before she reached up onto tiptoes, pressing first a sweet kiss on his cheek before hungrily kissing her way to his mouth, leaving both of them breathless when they broke away. "I've got to go." She smirked as her face fell, the reluctance to go back rolling off her in waves. "The path leading out there will take you back to the forest road. There's a small space right behind a few bushes that would be a perfect, hidden parking space."

He smiled before leaning in to do some kissing of his own. His girl was a genius, thinking about everything while he'd only been able to sulk and wallow in self-pity. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Her voice was breathless and her cheeks stained with pink as she rose on tiptoe to kiss him one last time. "I'll call you when I can get away."

He smiled back at her, sad and already feeling the loss of having her close. "I'll keep my phone on me at all times."

She nodded, her eyes shooting back into 'game mode' before she turned on her heels and sped off, her trusty and silent Vans taking her in a circumferential movement around the house under Edward's watchful gaze. She reached the one spot where she could slip in under the radar, the stone stairs leading up to the second stair balcony taking her back to her room without James ever noticing.

Or so _they _hoped.

He sighed, his eyes remaining fixed on the last spot they'd seen her even long after she'd already slipped from his view, his feet simply refusing to take him away from her even though he knew he should.

He couldn't stay there, on Harrison land, even if he knew the old guy wouldn't be able to see him or venture out far enough to spot his hiding place. He was still taking a risk; one he knew he shouldn't be taking, what with everything being as brittle as it was between Isabella and him.

But she took him back.

She had risked James' wrath and the loss of everything she'd sacrificed her life and freedom for twice now, and he'd be damned if he ever took her courage and determination for granted. _Unlike last time. _

His breath stocked in his throat when, only a couple of yards away, Carlisle's black Mercedes swooshed past, his hiding place too well concealed to be detected but, none the less… He sighed. He had to leave.

At least Carlisle would protect her.

He made his way with heavy feet dragging all the way back to the house until the familiar sight of white painted wood and lots of glass came into vision, the relief of his burning muscles a stark contrast to the profound feeling in his heart.

"You took your sweet time." His sister's skeptical voice greeted him as soon as he stepped into the house.

He raised his brow, sliding into the seat across from her at the kitchen table. "Have you been lying in wait for me?" Edward smirked.

"Not quite." She smiled ruefully, her fingers tracing the handle of her coffee mug up and down as she stared at Edward intensely, trying to take a measure of him. "But if your brother disappears into the forest at the ass crack of dawn, what kind of big sister would I be if I wouldn't be slightly concerned?"

He frowned, trying to decide whether she was joking or serious. "You didn't think I was going to string myself up, did you?"

"There're loads of stupid things you could have been doing in that forest, Ned." She shrugged, her eyes narrowing as they kept their piercing gaze on him. "Running through it without being able to see the track from the undergrowth sure as hell is one of them."

His face cocked as he stared back at her, wishing he knew what _she_ knew. _Did she know he'd been meeting Isabella?_ "And the other things?"

"Don't play me for a fool, Edward," she answered sharply, taking a sip of coffee to think about her words and uttering them very carefully when she finally found them. "I know you didn't risk your neck at the odd chance you might spot Bambi lurking somewhere in the undergrowth. You were meeting Isabella, weren't you?"

He sighed, nodding in confirmation. There was no point in denying it. "Yes. She sent me a message late last night asking me to meet her and…and I just did."

"I knew it." She smiled sadly, the hand not wrapped around her mug reaching out to pat his across the table. "Even if I didn't suspect it when I saw you hurtling into the forest like a maniac, I would have seen it in your face when you came back just now. You look happy again; like a man who thought he'd lost something special only to find it again right when he'd given up hope."

Edward smiled, the relief of being able to see Isabella and talk to her again like they used to, even if they would have to do it on the sly, washing over him. "I guess that's a good way to describe it."

"But Edward." She turned stern again, her hand on top of his a serious weight as she let out a small sigh. "I know you're going into this fully aware of the risk you're taking but, are you sure she's doing the same? Because it's a huge risk you're asking her to take here!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Edward bit back, his sister hitting him where it hurt most - his desperate need to protect Isabella from all possible harm and his complete and utter failure to do so. "It's all I've been thinking about for weeks, and then, when James found out about us…" He sighed, rubbing his face, his sleepless nights finally catching up with him. "I know I'm putting her at risk and believe me, she knows that too. It's just…"

"You're in love," Esme finished, smiling sadly.

He nodded, knowing it was the truth even when he wasn't ready to voice it just yet. He loved her. "I don't want to put her in jeopardy and I hate myself every time I ask her to do so, but I can't walk away, Es. And I know she feels the same way."

"Oh, she does," Esme chuckled. "She wouldn't have contacted you if she didn't. I guess there's no way she can be persuaded to leave that place?"

He shook his head. "I've asked her a million times but she wants to stay. I think the guy has some kind of hold on her or something that forces her to stick it out with him until the end."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Esme remarked, sipping her coffee as she thought. "From what I gather, that James Harrison is as shrewd a man as I've ever seen one. So, do you have a plan in place?"

"No." He was reluctant to admit it, holding his hand up to stop his sister before she could say anything. "And I know you're going to kick my ass for not having some five-page contingency plan, but, realistically, is it really possible to plan for a situation like ours?"

Esme kept glaring at him for a few more seconds before finally – and very unwillingly – she admitted defeat. "Fair enough," she shrugged. "So what are you guys going to do now?"

"Just play it by ear, I guess," he answered. "Meet up whenever we can and try to keep in touch when we can't. What else is there to do?"

"Are you sure you can do this?" Esme's question took him by surprise - the thought of him _not_ being strong enough to actually keep up with what he was doing never crossed his mind.

"Is there anything else I can do?" he shrugged. "I mean, walking away isn't an option for us at this point. I'm all in and so is she."

"Just be careful Edward," Esme sighed, knowing deep down there would be no reasoning with her brother, no matter how much she wanted to shake some sense into him. "I just got you back and I'd hate to lose you all over again."

"You won't." Even as he made the promise, Edward knew it was an empty one. There was no way of knowing what would happen in the future if he lost Isabella.

It would be bad, though.

Terrible.

He couldn't stop thinking about how crazy it was, feeling so much for a woman he hadn't even known for more than a couple of months. Hell, he'd known Tanya for years, even had a child with her, and he hadn't even felt half the amount of love for her that he felt for Isabella. It was crazy, but yet, it felt completely natural; like it had always been meant to be.

Which made the obstacles blocking their way all the more frustrating for him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Esme asked, catching up on her brother's sudden change of mood.

Edward nodded. "Absolutely. I just think the lack of sleep is catching up with me."

"Then go take a nap." Esme shrugged. "I have the morning off so I can have brunch ready for you in four hours or so and then you can still be on time for your meeting with Carlisle at three."

Edward's brows shot all the way up into his hairline. "I have a meeting with Carlisle today? Why don't I know about it?"

"Maybe because you ran off before he could tell you?" Esme grinned. "Anyway, he wants to see you in his office. I hope think he's thinking about letting you get back to work."

"I hope so, too." He let out a deep breath, relief and optimism battling for dominance inside of him. As crazy as his life had been for the past couple of days and, as much as he'd agreed with Carlisle that he'd been in no condition to hold a scalpel or even take a patient's medical history, he'd missed the rush of being on the hospital floor; making split-second decisions that could determine the outcome of another person's life and knowing his choices were the right ones.

"Are you really sure you're ready?" Esme sounded skeptical, which wasn't really that surprising considering he'd told her about his near-lapse.

"I am," he spoke, determinedly and calmly. "What happened the other day…it had nothing to do with my job."

"But you would have raided the medicine cabinet if Carlisle hadn't been smart enough to empty it," Esme countered. "It may not have been caused directly by your job but that doesn't mean it's not important!"

"I know, Es," he sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "I know…and of course I'm scared of lapsing but I don't think it's going to happen. In a way…" He let out another breath as he tried to find the right words to describe what had gone through him that desperate night.

"In a way I'm almost glad it happened because the shock I got from finding myself, once again, sneaking around, craving the high…it made me realize just how much I _don't_ want to be that guy anymore. How much I _want_ to be better." He paused, his voice brittle with emotion and so low Esme had to strain her ears as he went on. "I owe it to Claire to be the kind of man she would have looked up at as her dad. If she's looking down on me, I don't want her to see a broken man any longer, scrambling for his next fix or hiding away from real life. I want her to be _proud _of me."

He also owed it to Isabella to be a strong man for her, someone she could depend on when she needed a rock or just someone to talk to; not someone so full of his own problems he couldn't lend her a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. He didn't tell his sister, though, knowing that she may understand, but she probably wasn't quite ready to be confronted with the depth of his feelings for Isabella. _Soon maybe. _

Esme's eyes were brimming with tears as she shot up, engulfing her brother in a hug that would have crushed him had he been a weaker man. "Do you know how happy I am to hear you say that, Ned?" she whispered, as she rocked them side to side as if she were comforting a child. "It's not a sin to go on with your life and be happy again. I think she would have wanted you to do that."

"I think so, too." It still hurt his heart to speak her name or to even think about her, knowing she wasn't with them anymore. "She was always so full of life." Until she wasn't anymore.

They stood like that for quite some time, each sibling drawing strength from the other though in completely different ways, until a loud yawn from Edward caused his older sister to step back, chuckling as she held him at arm's length. "Now go get some sleep. You're never going to convince my husband to let you back on the surgical rotation if you fall asleep during your meeting."

He took her advice, sleeping steadily for four hours for the first time in days until his sister came to wake him up with a strong black coffee and a Spanish omelet waiting for him downstairs after he'd showered and gotten dressed.

Which found him sitting across from Carlisle in the now familiar surroundings of the chief's office, Emmett's mom typing away furiously right outside the door, as Edward's nerves rose while he waited for him to get off the phone.

He shouldn't have worried though; the conversation going exactly as he could have guessed beforehand, with Carlisle once again berating him on his irresponsible behavior before concluding that, if he'd learned his lesson and felt up to it, he was cleared to resume work. Things wouldn't be completely back to normal, though. He was still limited to working half shifts and strictly prohibited from having any kind of professional contact with the Harrisons.

_Professional contact_. It didn't escape Edward's notice how Carlisle had emphasized those words with a slight smirk on his lips, his mind still mulling over them an hour after he'd left the office, keeping him from completing the paperwork that had remained unfinished in his absence.

Did it mean that Carlisle knew Isabella and he were back together again and approved of it as long as it didn't affect his patients' welfare? He couldn't quite believe it even though he damn well hoped so.

"So, you're back." He jumped at the sound of a sharp voice behind him, his surprise no less when he found it was Rachel.

He frowned, trying to place this new harshness in her voice. "Yeah. Did you miss me?" He figured playfulness would be the way to go, hoping it would cheer her up or at least get rid of the strangeness in the air.

"Is it true?" She snapped, completely ignoring his attempt at making nice.

"Is what true?" he asked, though he had an idea of what she was talking about. In all his eagerness to get back to work, he hadn't stopped to think about the rumor mill and the way his co-workers would make up their own truths about what happened, using the few facts they had been given and piecing them together by using their own collective imaginations. In his case, it wouldn't have been too hard to put two and two together.

Rachel's eyes narrowed as she shook her head at him. "You know what I'm talking about, Edward. You and Isabella. It's all over town now." She huffed bitterly, almost slamming the coffeepot back into the coffeemaker after she'd finished pouring herself a cup of coffee. "I don't know what disgusts me most about it - that you lied to me or that you shamelessly ruined all of Doctor Cullen's hard work."

She knew? How the hell did she know? With the speed of light all possible people who could have told her passed in front of Edward's thoughts – Carlisle, Esme, Isabella, James – but none of them telling her made any sense. "How the fuck do you know?" His words were harsh, making Rachel stumble back slightly as her eyes widened before she recovered her initial indigence.

"This is a small town, Edward, and an even smaller hospital," she sneered back, "so when the Chief of Medicine yanks a doctor off a case after previously jumping through hoops to get him on it, people are going to want to know what happened. In this case, it wasn't all that hard to put two and two together, especially not after what Jake told me."

_Jacob Black_. Edward growled, his hands almost automatically clenching into fists. He should have known that fucking dog was involved somehow.

"I couldn't believe it at first when he told me," Rachel fumed on, "but he had it straight from the old man's mouth when he came in to do some yard work the other day and…well…what with Isabella's _reputation_ and all that..." The way she spoke the word 'reputation', with her lips set in an evil, vindictive smirk and her eyes making no secret of what she thought of Isabella's reputation and the local gossip surrounding it were enough to make Edward's blood boil.

"That's enough, Nurse Black." It was Maggie who put a stop to Rachel's rant, and it was a good thing she did because Edward was seconds away from doing something he would regret for the rest of his life. "I believe there are patients waiting for you downstairs."

Rachel flashed him a final glare before she stalked about of the break room, mug in hand - the door slamming shut in her wake.

"Not that you didn't have that one coming," Maggie remarked, pouring herself a cup. "But I don't think it's appropriate for doctors and nurses to duke out their personal disagreements on the work floor. Our professionalism is the only thing that discerns us from the likes of popular television drama." She took a long sip of her coffee, her lip curling up in sarcastic deprecation. "Not that you would know about that since you appear to be determined to lower us to the levels of Grey's Anatomy and other pulp television."

Edward smirked, pushing his paperwork slightly away from him as he leaned back, fully expecting another lecture. "Okay, let me have it."

"I'm not here to lecture you, kid," she chuckled, finishing her drink before placing the cup into the dishwasher. "God knows Henry Weber and me didn't exactly meet off the floor either. I'm just here to tell you that if you want to make your time here run as smoothly as possible, you'd do best to keep your love life as far away from this hospital as you can."

"Wow." It was all he could say, Maggie's speech being nothing like he'd expected it would be. "You and the Reverend met _here_? At the hospital?" Had he been a patient or just come up to do his work as a spiritual counselor? Had she, too, broken the rules? Straight laced Maggie? He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Don't act so surprised." She chuckled, dunking an extra sugar cube into her already amply sweetened coffee. "I do have a heart tucked away somewhere underneath my scrubs and, from the way you look right now, I'm guessing you've got it bad for that girl. You may have come across her at an awkward time but that doesn't mean what's happening between the two of ya isn't right." She smiled knowingly, pushing the door open with her rear as she made her way back onto the floor, leaving a still quite shocked Edward behind.

She was right, though. For the past couple of days, and even before that, all he had been able to think about was how dangerous the ground they were walking on was; thinking about that so much, in fact, that in his head it even sometimes started to feel like what they were doing was somehow wrong.

Which it wasn't.

Far from it.

As crazy as the thought of having Maggie Molina remind him of it was, her words did make him realize how happy he was with Isabella or even just thinking about her. What was happening between them was right – _so_ right – and no matter what would happen or how high the obstacles were that they may have to climb, he knew she would be worth it in the end.

She was _the one_. The only person in the world who would always feel like home for him.

He took _that_ thought with him into the next couple of days, needing it on the days when contact with Isabella was sparse or non-existent. Even with Edward not having to sneak around his family anymore, meeting up was still difficult because they had to make sure that James was left completely in the dark and he had his shifts at the hospital to work too.

The cabin was a gift from the Gods, though, since it meant they had a dry, warm place to wait and meet. And it didn't exactly hurt that there was a comfortable sofa bed tucked away in the corner of the small, cozy building either.

He made good use of it that night, resting up after a gruesome shift which had run long past its predetermined finish as he waited for Isabella to arrive. Now that Carlisle had him back on working full shifts again after a week or so of 'easing back into things', he was starting to feel the strain of spending so much time on his feet. The good thing was that with the amount of time his personal life was taking up, he was spared the drama unfurling at the Cullen house now that Rosalie's relationship with Royce had taken a turn for the worse. They hadn't broken up yet but if his sister was to be believed, it would only be a matter of time. Rosalie was too hung up on the words and promises Edward's mother had spoken to her during her visit to be as happy with the big fish she'd caught as she used to be.

Edward wasn't sure how he felt about it. Sure, she was good at getting rid of a guy who'd only proven himself to be the worst kind of jackass on the planet, but he had a feeling that Rosalie was only setting herself up for future heartbreak, believing Elizabeth Masen's words to be law and her idle promises to stick.

Edward's body relaxed almost to a state of slumber as his mind drifted, but only until he started from the sound of feet stumbling on the small porch. _Finally_.

"It's so cold." Isabella shivered, her cheeks red as she rushed into the warmth of the cabin, quickly closing the door behind her.

"It's warm in here." He smiled, shifting over to make room for her. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

"He wouldn't let me go upstairs." She toed off her Vans on the way to the bed, her body molding perfectly to his as she lay down next to him, her breath leaving her lungs in a deep sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder. "He kept on stalling me with all these questions and stuff. I don't know…I think he picked up on my antsiness or something."

As awkward as they had been at first, exploring the new closeness having a bed and a roof over their head brought them, they'd soon gotten used to the touches and closeness this new development offered them. And though they didn't do much in the way of rounding bases apart from making out and exploring each other's bodies over their clothes, he had grown to need their physical closeness almost as much as he needed her voice and mere presence.

"You have to be careful," he warned her, just like he'd done countless of times, lifting her chin so that he could kiss her, his lips touching to hers once, twice, three times before lingering longer, Isabella's scent and taste still overwhelming his senses as he drank them in. "I don't want to lose you again."

"I know," she muttered against his lips. "I just…I missed you so much. It's been three days."

He nodded, his body sluggish with lack of sleep as he leaned his forehead against hers, craving the closeness and intimacy of their little bubble. "I missed you, too."

His lips found hers again; kissing her now so familiar they moved almost as if it was out of second nature, Isabella's head tilting slightly sideways as she opened her mouth, urging him to deepen the kiss, a small moan humming from her throat as he caressed her tongue with his as his hands dipped lower, from her shoulder to the slope of her breast.

It was as far as he allowed them to go for now, even though his body was screaming for more. He craved her like he had nothing before but he knew instinctively she wasn't ready for it yet. He had to go slow, easing her into the newness of romance and physical intimacy, which were both things she'd never experienced in her life.

And it wasn't as if it was punishment, making out with the most beautiful woman in the world.

All too soon he had to pull away again, his almost primal need for her threatening to take over as she leaned slightly backward, her body more knowledgeable by nature than her mind could catch up with for now_. _

_It's too soon_.

He had to keep reminding himself of it over and over again, especially when she pouted, her lips swollen and her chest heaving with breathlessness.

"Is something wrong?" She frowned, looking at him with big, worried eyes.

He smiled, his nose briefly touching to hers as he pulled her closer again, risking a few wrinkles in her skirt for a few moments of utter bliss as he fought to regain command over himself.

"No, everything's alright now."

It was the truth. Everything _was_ alright because he had her in his arms.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.**_

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** 24. **

_**The waiting game.**_

"Is it wrong of me to sometimes wish James was dead?"

He turned, catching Isabella's honest gaze with his as his fingers continued their lazy trek up and down the bare skin of her arm. "If it is, then I'm just as guilty as you are," he sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I know what you're saying though. As much as I want to hate the guy for what he's done to you, I know the disease is guilty of most of it. It's just…fucked up."

They were lying side by side, the bed shifted so they could look out through the window at the clear, starlit sky. He knew that all too soon the time would come for them to say goodbye; the moments they had stolen together always too short when set against the many hours they would spend apart.

Still, he would cherish every second he had with her. It was all he could do. Well, at least until they could be together permanently.

"I wish we could stay here all day," she muttered, turning onto her side as her fingers traced the lines of his face. "Watch the sun rise and have breakfast….just act like normal couples do."

"We can have that, you know," he answered, taking her hand in his as his eyes sought her out with a promise he was dying to make. "And we _will_, I promise you." He couldn't wait to take her away and show her just how great the world could be outside of her isolated one. He'd show her Chicago, take her to the lake for a boat ride at Navy Pier and to the library, of course, since he'd noticed she had a great liking for books and reading. The museums were also a must as well because some of his favorite haunts when he was a kid was spent inside of those walls. It seemed almost surreal for Edward to think of doing all that stuff with Isabella, but he made a promise to himself and to her that he was going to make good on his resolve.

One way or another.

Isabella's smile was sad, her body falling back flat against the mattress as she let out a deep sigh. "Don't make any promises you might not be able to keep."

This time he was the one who turned to his side, his stare piercing as her forced her eyes back upon him. "I have every intention of keeping this promise."

"I know." She smiled apologetically. "It's just…with my past, hope is one of the most dangerous emotions to allow myself to feel."

He kissed her deeply, their bodies molding together as she made room, her legs parting to wrap around his waist as their words were replaced with kisses and quiet moans. "I will take care of you, Bella," he panted when they finally broke for air, his erection straining against the layers of fabric that separated it from her.

It took everything he had to remain a gentleman; to keep himself from thrusting blindly and finding the satisfaction he so craved. He knew he had to, though. As far as kissing and some light touching went, she had opened up to him and became more certain, and even slightly bold, as they spent time together but there was still something which made her hold back; something that stopped her from letting him inside her soul completely. And as long as _that_ something was still there, and he could feel it standing between the two of them even when they were closely pressed together like they were at that moment, he would hold back and somehow keep himself from pushing her, knowing it was the only right thing to do.

Even if it killed him.

"You already do," she whispered, her fingers lightly cradling his face as he closed her eyes, her lips finding his as she shifted against him, bringing her center even closer to his. "If only you knew just how much you _already_ have."

"_Isabella_," he breathed, his self-control slipping as he tried to still her movements, though his less rational side of him wanted nothing more than to give in; to allow her to pull him under. "We have to stop…we have to…I can't…."

"Then don't," Isabella panted, her voice breathy and almost a moan as she continued to squirm underneath him, seemingly desperate for the same kind of release as he was. "I want this just as much as you," she whispered against his neck, softly touching her tongue to him in encouragement, leaving a trail of goose bumps along its path.

Edward growled as his hips thrust strongly into her, eliciting a gasp from Isabella lips as her fingers dug into his shoulders, keeping him against her in an almost vise-like grip.

"Don't stop," she whispered, their bodies moving on instinct as they found a rhythm – pushing, brushing, holding – that would have brought both of them to their bliss had it not been for the alarm on Edward's phone going off, signaling the end of their assignation.

The growl he let out this time wasn't anything like the one with when he'd pounced on Isabella, her eyes conveying a same frustration as she tried to ignore the inevitable. "Don't stop?" she repeated herself, though the question in her voice made it clear that she was already giving up the fight.

"You know I have to, love," he answered her, reluctantly pushing his body off of her and back onto his feet as he tried to will his erection away. It wasn't easy, though, with her still lying on the bed, looking all kinds of disheveled and thoroughly kissed. "My shift starts in half an hour and you have to get back to your room before James will notice you missing…." He grinned, his eyes hungry as they roamed over her. "…or catches you sneaking into the house looking like that."

He smiled proudly at her wrinkled clothing and messy hair while she pouted, her face pulling into a scowl as her eyes traced the trail leading away from the cabin and back to the house, the moonlight illuminating the pathway just enough for it to be seen underneath the trees and undergrowth. "He wants me to make his mother's recipe for braised lamb today."

"Sounds delicious," he hummed, his mouth watering at the prospect of food as he tied his tie after vainly attempting to sort out the wrinkles in his previously so flawlessly starched Oxford.

_We're both wrinkled_, he thought smugly.

"Believe me, it doesn't taste as good when you've spent two hours in the kitchen preparing the damn thing," Isabella grumbled, trying to smooth out an impossible case of bed-hair as she hopped off the bed. "And when there's perfectly good pie I could buy at the grocery store."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss into her now hastily tied back hair. "At least you won't be puked on today." He grimaced, remembering a particularly unfortunate event the previous day involving a violently sick five-year-old and Edward's favorite button-down shirt.

"At least you won't be interrogated all day long," Isabella quipped, matching his complaints one-by-one as if they were playing a tennis match, then reaching up on tiptoe to right his tie before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Do you really want to play this game? You already know I'm going to win in the end." Her smile didn't reach her eyes and, though she tried to make light of the matter, he knew her feelings were anything but.

He hated it. And what he loathed most of all was that she wouldn't let him help her. There was nothing he could do except for trying to make the hours they got to spend together as good and happy as they could be so they might tie her over until the next time they met.

"I give," he smiled, his arms reaching around her waist as he pulled her flush against him, breathing in her tantalizing scent one last time before he had to go. "I'll miss you today."

"So will I," her voice was muffled by his shoulder as she held on to him. "You have to work the night shift, don't you?"

"Yeah." He sighed, wishing it wasn't so. "I won't be able to get away until Friday." _Four fucking days_. Four days of working nights, meaning that he couldn't sneak away to the cabin. Four days without seeing her. How on earth was he going to manage that?

"It's probably a good thing, though," Isabella reasoned, except he could see that her heart wasn't in it. "I don't think he suspects anything yet, but he might if I keep sneaking off every night. We have to be extremely careful, as much as I don't want to be." She sighed, pulling another half-assed smile onto her lips as she went on jokingly. "Besides, I could do with a good nights' sleep every once in a while to keep me from keeling over dead."

"So in reality you're happy to see the back of me as I walk away?" he teased, quite enjoying the fierce blush that tainted her cheeks as she registered his words.

"You _know_ that's not how I meant it," she admonished him.

"I do." He kissed her again, groaning when his alarm kicked in again; the second alarm telling him that if he wanted to make it to the hospital on time, he'd all but have to fly down the damn mountain road. "Fuck! I have to go."

"I know." She smirked, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to draw strength she didn't possess. "Here, take this." She fished around in her purse – the one he'd been curious about for most of their time together - to produce a sandwich wrapped in cling film. "I noticed last time how you seemed to be kind of hungry when you left. I don't want you to skip out on meals because of me."

"God, I love you," he groaned, forgoing all other ceremony as he tore the plastic off the sandwich and inhaled it.

Both their eyes widened, the words said, though often thought and implied, never having been said between them.

"I…I mean," he stuttered.

"You have to go, right?" she interrupted him, her eyes wild with that same kind of panic that ruled her mind whenever he got too close.

He tried not to be hurt by the quick way in which she dismissed his declaration but still his shoulders slumped as he accepted her withdrawal. "I'll see you on Friday?"

She nodded, picking up her purse as she followed him out of the cabin; one more wistful look and a quick kiss shared between them before each went on their way; Edward down the one trail towards the spot near the road where he'd parked his car, Isabella back to the house.

It would never get easier, walking away from her, especially not when the words he'd spoken were left hanging between them; not discussed and unexplained.

Edward loved Isabella. He knew that, and had known it for weeks now, maybe even since that first time he'd seen her. It was just the practicalities of love and being together that they needed to work out before they would really be able to acknowledge their feelings to the world…to each other.

But time was against them.

As they continued to meet in secret, the weeks had flown by; Christmas passing with much homely celebration and frustration over not being able to see as much of each other as they would have liked and one year flowing into each other with a naturalness that belied its loud and exuberant celebration.

But yet, instead of cheering along with the crowd and marveling at the big firework extravaganza the city council had arranged, his unease had been growing even though he hadn't showed it on the outside. It was already January which meant that he had only roughly one more month until he was expected back in Chicago to resume his 'normal' job. The problem was, though, that with Isabella bound to Forks, there wasn't a bone in his body ready or willing to leave her behind.

If only she'd be willing to leave…

He sighed. Over the past weeks he'd tried reasoning with her countless times, using arguments of safety, happiness and need. But every time her answer had been the same - No.

If only he knew what bound her to the old man. There had to be more than just a sense of obligation, he could feel it in the tenacity with which she stuck to her guns; something going so deep that she wouldn't risk it for the world.

If he knew, he might have a better shot at convincing her to go with him.

The next couple of days at the hospital dragged; the cold weather and slippery roads causing the only break in the monotony since it meant an increase in patients ending up in the emergency room with concussions, broken bones and other falling down or crash-related injuries. He felt sorry for the ones who had to suffer through those injuries and relieved that none of them were so bad that with some medical attention the patients would be good as new again, but he was happy for the distraction the full ER caused.

It kept his mind off Isabella and the intense sense of longing which wanted to pull him up that damned mountain and up to the Harrisons' property every time he stopped to think.

Or even breathe.

So he buried himself in work, cherishing the few, short text messages Isabella was able to send him at night, when there was no risk of James finding out she had a phone and trying to catch up on some sleep whenever he could. For Isabella wasn't the only one feeling the strain of their late night and early morning meet-ups, not that he wanted to change it for anything in the world.

It was on the third day, with the prospect of seeing her again later that night driving him almost insane with impatience, he was waylaid by a jumpy looking Carlisle the minute he stepped out of the OR after an emergency decompressive craniectomy, saving the life and brain function of a fifteen-year-old who'd landed in the ER after an unfortunate crash in the high school's parking lot. It was the closest he'd come to performing neurosurgery – his own chosen specialty – in all of his stay in Forks and the rush of finally being able to do what he loved so much indescribable.

"Did he make it through the procedure okay?" Carlisle inquired, his footsteps quick to fall in line with Edward's.

He nodded. "I think so but it's hard to tell since he's still unconscious." He sighed, only now feeling the exhaustion that came from a good, lengthy stay in an operating room and having to be on top of his game for the duration of it. "We'll know more when he wakes up. Has the helicopter been ordered?"

"They are on standby to take the boy to Seattle as soon as you clear him for transport," Carlisle nodded, his smile filled with pride as he clapped Edward on the back. "I have to say, it's incredibly exciting to see you at work. I don't think the kid would have made it if you hadn't been around."

He shrugged, feeling both intensely proud and slightly uncomfortable under Carlisle's praise. "I was just glad I was here to help." And he was. Carlisle had been right when he said that the kid might not have survived without a neurosurgeon around to alleviate the pressure on his brain. With Forks being a small hospital which only offered basic care and the closest hospital that offered neurosurgical care being almost a whopping hundred miles away, the poor kid's brain would have fried from the pressure the trauma had caused before he would make it there.

"It's at times like these I'm so happy to have you around, Edward," Carlisle went on, accompanying Edward to the Surgical ICU but, "even being a hospital administrator I have to admit that I was kind of nervous."

"I can imagine." Edward chuckled. After all, it wasn't often that a procedure like the one he'd just performed was pulled off in a small country hospital and even he had to improvise on a few points because the hospital was simply lacking the equipment he liked to have at hand. Still, it had paid off this time. He was proud of what he did – God it felt so good to feel proud of himself again – and completely psyched up about finally being able to perform medicine again on the level that he had grown so accustomed to back in Chicago.

Carlisle nodded, seemingly nervous again as he shifted from one foot to the other in the doorway, his eyes going from Edward to the patient. "Do you think you can drop by my office as soon as you've taken care of young mister Brown?"

Edward nodded, a slight note of uneasiness creeping in as he wondered what it was that Carlisle wanted to talk to him about this time. He didn't recall setting a foot wrong, well apart maybe from his insistence to perform a high-risk neuro procedure in his hospital but Carlisle had already told him he was okay with it now that everything had seemingly gone well.

_Strange_.

It took him longer to make his way to Carlisle's office than he'd figured, many of his coworkers, still high on the unusual procedure having taken place in 'their' hospital, stopping him underway to get the latest news and offer their congratulations.

All, of course, except for Rachel and her little circle of friends. Things were still pretty tense there, though he had to admit that in spite of the troubles between them, Rachel's behavior on the floor was nothing, if not, professional.

He felt it, though, the glares into his back coming from the ER's admissions desk and the distinctly colder behavior some of the nurses showed towards him leaving him in no doubt of the fact that not only was Rachel still pissed at him, her friends knew about it as well.

It was no less than he deserved.

By the time he did finally reach Carlisle's office, he was already drawing close to the end of his shift; the hours that had seemed to drag on for what appeared to be forever having now flown by in the challenge of saving someone's life.

"Come in," Carlisle's voice sounded, muffled through the closed door. His brother-in-law looked up from his papers as soon as Edward came in, the nervousness that was still there barely masked by a greeting smile. "Ah, there you are."

"You wanted to speak to me about something?" Edward licked his lips, his boss' nervousness now transferred onto him as he once again wondered what it was that warranted a call into the chief's office.

"Yes," Carlisle replied thoughtfully, slowly pulling his reading glasses from his nose as he seemed to debate something. What it was, though, Edward had no idea. "There is indeed something I wanted to talk to you about."

Edward sat down, waiting impatiently for the older man to proceed until he found he could no longer bear the tension. "Is something wrong?" Had the specialists over at U-Dub Medical Centre complained about his almost cowboy-style brain surgery?

"You could say that," Carlisle sighed, the words once again coming with great difficulty until finally, and with no small amount of effort, he found his voice again. "What I am about to say goes against every professional promise I've made, but sometimes…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes you have to break a promise if it means saving a life."

Edward's breathing shortened as his mind swiftly put two and two together. This could only be about one patient, which meant…

"Isabella." Her name had left his mouth before he could stop to think about the consequences. The effect was immediate; his body restless and his leg bouncing as the cold sweat of fear started to prickle on his skin. Had something happened? Was something wrong?

"Yes." Carlisle's answering smile lacked humor but wasn't as sharp as Edward might have expected. "Don't worry, Edward, she's okay as far as I know."

Edward balked, his mind working double-time. If Carlisle knew he would fear for Isabella's safety then did that mean… "You knew?"

Carlisle chuckled. "Of course I knew! Neither you, nor your sister, had ever been very good at keeping secrets. I mean, even if Isabella hadn't consulted me on what to do, your facial expressions would have been enough to cue me in on what was going on."

"What do you mean?" Edward frowned, trying to digest Carlisle's words. "She consulted you?"

"Edward." Carlisle sighed, leaning backwards in his chair. "If you think you had it bad over Thanksgiving, then think about what it must have been like for Isabella. She may not be as expressive in her feelings for you as you may like but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel any less as strongly as you do." He shook his head as he went on. "I could see how much she was suffering, with James watching her every step like a hawk and the only shimmer of hope she'd ever let herself entertain being dashed before it could ever spring to light."

"So you told her to contact me?" He had a hard time wrapping his mind around Carlisle's confession, especially given the lecture that was still fresh in his brain. "But I thought you were against it. You told me-"

"I know what I told you," Carlisle interrupted him, "and believe me, from a professional point of view, I am still not happy about this turn of events, but…" He sighed again, toying with the legs of his reading glasses. "I'm a healer. Whenever I see someone in pain, I can't refuse to help if it is in my power to do so. I didn't tell her to contact you – she did that all on her own – but I may have helped her out on the logistics of getting the two of you back together again a little. Which brings me to why you're here."

"Something's wrong, isn't there?" His anxiety rose to dangerous levels. He knew it couldn't be really bad, since Carlisle would have told him by now if somehow Isabella had ended up in the ER again or was in some kind of acute danger but still, it had to be bad if his boss was willing to break his oath to his patient. "Are you sure Isabella's okay?" He knew Carlisle had just told him she was but he couldn't be too sure about it, not with the way his boss was acting.

"For now, she is," Carlisle nodded. "I just left her this afternoon and I can promise you that she was as well as I've seen her. It's the long-term I'm worried about." He paused, thinking carefully about the way he was going to phrase his explanation. "She's spreading herself too thin and she has been for a considerable amount of time. Now with James still being fairly well and trusting her, she got by just good enough to cope but now, with his paranoia spiraling out of control she's under close scrutiny virtually every moment she stays in his house." He shook his head, his own worry for his patient's companion apparent in his every gesture. "She's been walking a thin rope but lately it seems like that rope is getting thinner by the day. It's only time until she will crash."

"She…she didn't tell me," Edward managed to stammer, completely knocked over by Carlisle's confession. Of course he'd suspected that things at the house had been pretty miserable for her but with her never telling and him knowing better than to ask, he hadn't realized things had become that bad. Why hadn't she told him about that? Why had she kept it a secret? Didn't she trust him?

His mind warped between hurt and anger as he sat and listened while Carlisle went on. "I think she wants to protect you," the older man answered his unspoken question. "She knows how strongly you feel about her and I think she suspects that if you found out the truth – the whole truth – you'd come charging in like a knight in shining armor…or a bull in the porcelain cupboard, depending on the way you look at it."

Edward smirked. _That isn't such a wild guess_. Every part of him was yelling at him to get in his car right that second and get her out of there, even though he knew what a crazy plan that was. _She would never leave, for starters._

Carlisle, meanwhile, went on. "Now, normally I would agree with her but today…" Another sigh. "Today I found him chasing after her through the house – well, chasing for as far as a man with severely encumbered motor skills and bound to a wheelchair can chase anyone. By the time I managed to get in through the back door, she was perched halfway up the stairs and he was hurtling abuse at her of a nature I really don't feel like repeating."

A murderous rage pulsed through his veins at the thought of his Isabella in danger at the hands of that madman, his hands balling into fists in his lap as he managed to grunt out the necessary question. "Did he hurt her?"

"Not physically," Carlisle was quick to reply. "Not as far as I could ascertain, anyway. By the time I left he was calm again and I think he'd all but forgotten the incident, but still…"

He didn't need to finish his sentence, both doctors knowing full well what was implied. If the patient had reacted like this one time, he might do it again and again and again. Until at one point Isabella might not be lucky enough to escape in time.

"What can we do?" Even as he uttered the words, Edward knew damn well that there was nothing either of them could do. Isabella was of age and no judge would ever take a look at her and deem her incapacitated.

"There's nothing, except for keeping a closer eye on her and hoping for the best." Carlisle sighed, watching as Edward became more and more agitated across the desk from him, though the younger man did a valiant attempt at hiding it. "She's made it pretty clear that she's there of her own volition and does not want to leave and he…" Carlisle let out another sigh as he rubbed his face. "From the start, when he was still of sound mind he had made sure to take all necessary precautions to prevent himself from ever being admitted to a hospital. I don't know what to do here, Edward…"

Once again Edward found himself wondering about the accuracy of Isabella's statement about 'free will'. It seemed so odd to him that a girl like Isabella – who was by no means a meek and wilting little flower – would stay in such an unhealthy environment unless her life somehow depended on it. There was only so far compassion and gratitude would stretch and Edward had a hard time believing she would go as far as to sacrifice her own life for it.

However, as the hours passed, his agitation grew, bringing him straight to the cabin after his shift ended as opposed to swinging by the house for a change of clothes and a show of appearance. He was too strung out on worry to go home, not that pacing the narrow confines of the cabin made him feel better, still, it was as close to where she was as he could get.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, but was in reality just a couple of hours, his ears finally picked up on the soft crunch of light footsteps treating the snow-covered gravel path that led to the cabin, his heart rate picking up as he tried to keep calm. _No use in running out towards her like a five-year-old being picked up by his mommy at daycare._

But, God, did he want to do just that.

And then she was there, a blast of ice sweeping into the room as she pulled the door open and quickly stepped inside, her presence still taking Edward's breath away even after seeing it emerge from that same door countless times. It was only now, though, with Carlisle's observations still clear in his mind, that he noticed how tired and drawn she looked.

_Why hadn't he noticed it before? _ He could kick himself for being so blinded by the overwhelming, overpowering love he felt for her that he hadn't even noticed her suffering. He, who should have made it his business to know and to protect.

She looked kind of startled, walking in from the cold with her pink cheeks and huddled inside her thick winter coat, her eyes widening as she saw him standing in the middle of the tiny space. She was quick to mask it, though, the corners of her lips immediately pulling into a coy little smirk. "And here's me thinking _I_ was early for a change."

The lightness of her voice did nothing to abate his worries that had been building to almost unbearable levels over that past few hours. "I've been here for a while," he muttered, knowing that if he wanted to get anywhere with her, he would have to build up slowly. Railing at her like a madman would only get him dumped or kicked in the shin again. Or both.

"Oh?" She looked genuinely befuddled by that, her eyes scrunching up as she digested his words. "Did your shift end early or something? I thought with the hours you've been pulling you'd more likely be late because you overslept or something."

He shook his head. "I had a chat with Carlisle today..." He let his vice trail off deliberately, watching her face as he let the unsaid linger between them.

Isabella swallowed, looking momentarily shaken before she was back in control, her shoulders squaring as determination took over again. "What did he say?"

"He's worried." Edward was still picking his words, knowing from experience that the path ahead of him went straight through a mine field.

Isabella was faster than him, though, blurting out the first thing she could think of to diffuse the situation or, at the very, least delay what she knew was going to be an unpleasant conversation. "He's bound to be. The old man's getting worse."

He knew it was now or never, his own shoulders squaring in reflection to hers as he spoke. "And, from what I hear, he's been treating you worse as well."

All of the conviction she'd managed to muster up from somewhere in her body deflated as she sighed, slowly stripping out of her coat and snow boots as he crossed the small room and flopped down onto the bed. "What are the chances of you dropping this if I asked you really nicely?"

He raised one brow, trying to keep his frustration over her evasive measures out of his voice. "Do you even have to ask? Of course I'm not dropping this! What do you think?"

"A girl has to try, doesn't she?" Isabella shrugged, smirking slightly as she caught his building chagrin. "I'm not trying to make light of it, by the way, it's just…" She let out another sigh, lying backwards so that she could look at the stars as she explained, needing the comfort and strange sense of calm she always got when she looked up at the night sky. "Being here…being with you…it's the only escape I have. We're in only place I don't have to think about what's going on at the house. I don't want _him_ to invade our little bubble."

"But it doesn't have to be this way!" Edward cried, his body coiled like a spring with tenseness as he sat next to her, wondering how she could stay so calm while basically telling him her life was hell. "Why do you stay here when it's so clear you don't want to be? Caring for him is a danger to your own fucking health."

"Because it's the only way I can ever really be free." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again after taking a few deep breaths. "It's the deal we have: I serve him until he croaks and play Scheherazade as long as he can still write and, in return, I'll walk away with enough money to finally live my own life."

There had to be more to it than that. She couldn't just be risking her life because of money? "Then leave with me," he insisted. "I've got more than enough money to last both of us a lifetime. You don't _need_ his money."

"It's not about the money, Edward. "Her eyes were begging him to see a meaning that completely eluded him. "If it had been as simple as that, I would have been out of there the first time the old man threw a book at my head." She shook her head, her eyes on the grass as she went on. "It's about freedom; the choices to do as I want and to be who I want to be. I've never had that in my life and achieving it…It's worth a few cuts and bruises."

"You'd be free if you came with me," Edward pressed, still not quite seeing what she was getting at. "I'd never stand in your way of doing whatever you want to do."

"But I'd still be dependent on you, don't you see that?" she cried. "I'd still not have a penny to my name or anything to fall back on if…" She didn't finish her sentence but she didn't need to, her smile was sad as her words hung between them. "If I see this through at least I'll know that I worked damn hard for my money. I wouldn't owe anyone or be forced to do as someone says. For the first time in my life I'd be free."

"And you'd risk your _life_ for that?" He shook his head, unable to see her reasoning. "It can't be worth it. It can _never_ be worth it."

"It is to _me_," she spat back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice sounded broken, his mind spiraling down in negativity as he still tried to recover from the words she'd spoken. Having her throw his offer back in his face time and time again had stung, but now, finding out that all this time she'd kept him in the dark about her true reasons, it was like a slap in the face. "We must have had this conversation a dozen times. Why did you _not once_ consider that this might be something I'd want to know?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand, even if I did tell you." Her voice was losing some of its venom, though it still remained as sharp as ever.

"I might have understood if you'd been upfront about it from the start," he retorted.

She snorted sarcastically. "Don't you think that's a little bit hypocritical, coming from you? I've told you everything about myself; things I've never even told a living soul before and yet you've shared nothing. How do I know if I can trust you when sometimes it feels like I don't even know _you_! Who's to say you won't turn out to be the same as all my previous 'sugar daddy's' have been?"

She couldn't have delivered a harsher blow even if she tried, the stricken look on Edward's face diminishing her own burning anger like snow before the sun. "Is that what you really think of me?" he finally spoke, sounding like the wind was knocked out of him, which was pretty much how he felt as well.

"No," she whispered, her eyes remorseful as she shifted closer. "But you have to give me something to go on. I can't throw away everything I know for someone I hardly know."

"You know everything about me that's important," he breathed, his anxiety growing as he realized this was it. He was going to have to tell her everything, even if he didn't want to.

Even if he didn't feel ready, he had no choice.

If he wanted to keep her and have shot at being her protector, even when she seemed so unwilling to accept his protection, he would have to lay his cards out on the table. "You know everything about the person I am right here, right now."

"I do," she nodded, halting at an invisible barrier that seemed to have gone up between the two of them, "but I want to know about what made you _become_ the man I love. I know about your struggle with your parents and the failure of your marriage, but there's more to it, isn't there? There's something you're not telling me."

He smiled wryly. He should have known she'd pick up on all the things he'd tried so hard to keep hidden. "Very well, then: I had to leave Chicago because I'd been caught red-handed at the hospital, stealing heavy duty painkillers from their stash…" He held up his hand to stop her from speaking, knowing that if he stopped now, he was never going to get the words out. "And I started using drugs because…because…"

"It's okay, Edward," she whispered, breaching the gap by grabbing his hand. "There's nothing you can say to me that will change the way I feel about you."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that!" He snorted deprecatingly before turning serous again, his eyes focusing on something not in the room; a face he hadn't seen in front of him in five years. "We – Tanya and I – we had a daughter; a little girl. She was so sweet and beautiful and pure…" His voice was detached now, his emotions shut out as he withdrew within himself. "She was the embodiment of everything that's good about this world…and I…I killed her."

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_**Thoughts?**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**R.I.P. mad4hugh**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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**_This chapter comes with a warning as it deals with the fate of one Rosalie Cullen and from the books we all know what that fate entails. It will not be a graphic description, though. _**

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**25. **

_**The daughter.**_

_I killed her. _

He closed his eyes, a shudder wracking through his body as the whole event started playing back in front of him; her laughter as she greeted him at the door, the fight with Tanya, waking up to the dull crash outside that would forever cast his life into darkness…

Isabella's shocked gasp came as a kick to the gut, though, seriously, what did he expect? He'd just told her he had killed his own child, that he was the worst kind of human being in the world. It would have been foolish to think she could just shrug it off.

What he didn't expect, however, were the sensation of cool, slightly trembling hands closing around his cheeks and honest, compassionate eyes shining up at him through unshed tears when he finally dared to open his eyes again and look at her. "What happened?" she whispered.

The loudness of his snort startled them both, his self-loathing as strong as ever as he let out a humorless laugh. "Didn't I just tell you?"

"You told me _nothing_." Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head, reminding him again of what had gotten him into this mess. "The only thing I know is that you had a child and she died. I want to know _how_."

"She's dead," he croaked, wincing as the words sliced through his soul like a knife. "What more is there to say about it?" he continued in an equally lifeless tone of voice.

"Edward!" she admonished him. "You can't just drop a bomb on me and expect me to just shrug it off and act like I haven't heard anything. I know you didn't _kill _her. I want to know what happened, damn it, and I won't stop hounding you until you tell me."

"No?" he tried even though he knew there was no way to get out of Isabella's questioning but by baring his broken soul to her. "Not even if I ask you nicely?"

She sighed, her cool fingers brushing his cheeks. "I know I'm not exactly the one to talk, seeing as I haven't been the most forthcoming with information either, but if we are ever going to stand a chance at making this…" she waved her hand between them before resting it back over his heart, "work, you've got to let me in." She smiled sadly when her words met with nothing but silence. "No matter what you tell me, I'll still be here."

"That's easy to say now," he muttered, still wondering how he was ever going to get the words out to explain to her how his heart got ripped out that day and part of him died along with his little girl.

How he sometimes wished it had been _all_ of him, that it had been his life lost that day instead of hers.

"Trust me," she chuckled, "if there had ever been a chance of me running, I would have done so the second you confessed to killing your kid." Her had rose again to cup his cheek and he found himself leaning into her touch, his eyes closing as he relished in the softness of her fingertips on his skin. "And if it's the falling apart you're afraid off," she went on, her voice completely composed and serious again, "they may not look like much, but my shoulders are strong and waterproof. They will carry you if you need them."

He smiled, for the first time since he'd seen her coming through the door that day, his lips finding hers without looking. "I love you," he whispered.

Her eyes widened slightly as if in shock before her lips pulled into the most radiant smile he'd ever seen. He realized then that, as much as he'd felt it and shown it and had seen his feelings reflected in hers, they'd never actually spoken the words before. It felt…liberating, even at a time like that. "I love you, too, Edward," she answered as her lips pressed softly against his before she pulled back again. "For better _and_ for worse."

He smiled sadly, nodding at her words before repeating them, "For better and for worse," and then summoning all of his willpower before he surrendered, "Okay."

"Okay," she repeated, her fingers lacing with his as she shifted into a sitting position, his head on her lap and her free hand stroking his hair as she waited patiently for him to begin.

_Okay. _He took another deep breath, still trying to find the strength from somewhere to relive that day. "Where do you want me to start?"

"At the beginning?" she deadpanned, her fingers pausing momentarily over his scalp. "I always find it's easier to start from a happy place. It gives you some leeway to work up to the pain."

He nodded, figuring it seemed logical enough. It seemed such a long time ago, even though his pain was still fresh, his mind quickly hopping over the end of what his story would be to the very beginning. "Tanya and I met in medical school." He sighed, remembering what it had been like back in the day, when his most pressing worry was how to handle his huge workload without turning into a complete hermit. "She transferred from Dartmouth to Northwestern to take care of her grandmother and we just clicked. She was like me - skipping parties and the typical college stuff and fast-tracking through school at a pace that pretty much excluded have anything in common with your classmates."

"That must have been tough," Isabella mused, her hands still brushing through his hair in a way that would have made him purr if he'd been a cat.

"It used to be," he shrugged, "but I still had enough friends to never be lonely or without a drinking buddy. And then, of course, I had Tanya." He smiled at the memories of the good years. "We had so much in common it was almost impossible for us not to become friends but it wasn't until later that things evolved between us. It was all a matter of convenience, I guess."

He could almost hear Isabella's puzzled frown in her voice as she spoke. "Convenience?"

"When you're studying to be a doctor, you don't exactly have a lot of spare time on your hands to cruise around bars, looking for girls," he explained, "especially not when you have your entire family hounding you to excel and prove to them that you'd made the right choice after all. In hindsight we still had it easy back then, with our Residencies still looming in the distance, but if anyone had asked us, we'd told them it was hell." He shrugged.

"Anyway… with both of us being single and neither feeling the need to waste precious time scouring bars to get laid, we just kind of fell into this thing together and it worked. Or, at least, we thought it did."

His anxiety rose as the harder parts got closer. "My parents hated her, of course. They hated that I hadn't picked the job they'd been priming me for ever since the day I was born, and then with me showing up with a fellow doctor-in-training, one who hailed from middle-class circumstances to boot? My mother almost had a stroke." It had felt good, though, to finally make his own choices no matter how much his parents disapproved of them. To him, it was what freedom had felt like. "Things went on like that well into our Residency until one day Tanya told me she was pregnant."

The pressure of Isabella's fingers increased slightly as she realized they were getting closer to the heartbreak. "There was never a question about whether or not we were going to keep the baby. We just made it work, though God knows how we did it without going crazy. We got married, dipped into our savings to buy a nice little place in a quiet neighborhood and had our baby while we completed our residencies. We were just lucky, I guess, that Claire took it easy on us. She was just…amazing."

He smiled, the good outweighing the bad in his mind as it went back to those first few years of having her in his life. "It was a struggle every day, though. Neither of us wanted to sacrifice their career and education to stay home so we constantly had to juggle shifts and nannies while ignoring our guilt over not being at home with Claire, where we really wanted to be, and my parents' ongoing disapproval."

"Your parents disapproved of Claire?" Isabella's fingers stalled with shock, making him shift uncomfortably like his only lifeline was suddenly pulled back.

She chuckled, relief flooding his system as she went back to stroking his hair. "They hardly knew her," he explained. "They didn't so much disapprove of _her_ as of the path I'd chosen. To them, my choice to forgo business school for a medical career was objectionable but not completely insurmountable. After all, my sister, Charlotte, was chomping at the bits to take over the family business and there were more than enough doctors walking around in Chicago's high society to make the profession socially acceptable." He chuckled darkly, his bitterness over his parents' behavior seeping back in. "They didn't understand how I could endanger my career for a 'mistake', as they called it. As far as they were concerned, we should have just gotten rid of Claire and focused on getting rich and 'noticed by the right kind of people'. They hated Tanya, of course. _Hated_ her. My mom and dad thought she was to blame for all of it - that getting pregnant had been her way of getting her hands on my money."

"She wasn't?" The calm, inquisitive tone of Isabella's question took him aback for a moment. It wasn't jealous or insinuative. She just wanted to know.

"No," he answered her question. "Tanya hated the money and all the shit it had gotten us into with my parents. Even when we got divorced, she never wanted any of it, much to my parents shock and amazement."

"Okay." She nodded, digesting this new piece of information. "Go on."

He sighed, the pain already starting to throb through his veins as he started the final part of his account. "As we got further into our training, our supervisors started pushing us farther and harder, trying to get us to reach our true potential. As exhilarating as it was to be able to take more and more responsibility, we were both really starting to feel it in our bones. We were always so tired…" His voice stopped on the threshold of the final stretch, his hands clenching into fists by his side as he breathed heavily through the pain.

"I've got you." Isabella's voice was equally heavy with emotion, the hand she held never loosening its hold, though it must have hurt from the pressure he'd exerted on it. "Take your time."

"I just got home after pulling a double shift," his voice started again, shakily and barely audible but at least he got the words out somehow. "It had been absolute hell – almost like all the people in Chicago had decided to get sick or wounded at the same time. The only thing keeping me sane was the thought that Tanya had the day off, which meant that I could get some sleep while she watched Claire." He took a shaky breath, getting just enough air in his lungs to go on. If he stopped now, he'd never get the words out.

"When I got home, Tanya was in the process of getting ready to leave. One of the other residents on her team had called in sick and they needed her to take over. She'd already called in a sitter who was supposed to arrive at any minute, but still….we fought, like we only seemed to do those days, but there was nothing I could do to stop her from going. Claire was asleep and I only had to stay awake for a few more minutes until the babysitter would arrive; _a few more fucking minutes_…and I failed."

A sob wracked through his throat as his strength gave out; the misery of those few minutes pulling him completely under. "I could stay awake for hours and hours on end when operating on a patient but I couldn't manage a couple of minutes to look after my own daughter. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for the babysitter and she must have woken up in the meantime and climbed out of her crib…" he continued in a chocking whisper, "Tanya had warned me that she'd attempted to do so a few times before but I…I was asleep. I never heard a thing until…" Until the screeching of tires followed by a dull thud woke him up, his body immediately knowing something was terribly wrong, even before his eyes found the empty crib and the opened back door.

"I tried to get her back," he gasped, his eyes misty through his tears. "I tried to breathe for her and keep her heart going until the ambulance arrived but…it was all for nothing. The blow had been too much for her little body…" Edward took a deep breath, summoning every drop of courage he had to say the words Isabella needed to hear. "She'd already died." His eyes squeezed shut as if the action could somehow keep out the pain. "She died because I fell asleep; because I neglected my daughter."

"She died because of a horrible accident," Isabella spoke, calmly, though inside her heart was breaking. "I know you may feel responsible for it, but you are not to blame."

"Of course I am!" he cried out. "_I_ fell asleep. _I _left the door unlocked. _I_ failed to notice she'd woken up."

"And would you have done all of that had you known the outcome?" she questioned.

"Of course not!" he growled, his agitation growing. "I loved her. I love her _so fucking much_!"

"Then you have to see that this was all just one fucking unlucky twist of fate," she pressed. "You didn't want this to happen, nor, I imagine, did Tanya, the babysitter or anyone else. But still it did happen and you can go on and curse fate for being such a nasty fucking bitch or blame yourself until your self-hate has grown so big that you can find no other reason but to escape it in either death or addiction, but you and I both know it won't solve anything."

He gasped, his eyes widening as he looked up. "How did you know?"

She smirked. "I may be unschooled and sheltered but even I know that doctors of your caliber won't chose to wither their days away at a small, country hospital unless something big has happened and, well, if I'd lived through what you've been forced to deal with, I would most definitely look for a way to escape the pain. _Any_ way I could."

_The pain._ He closed his eyes and thought, _it will never go away._

And part of him really didn't want it to; the piece of him that was afraid that if it did, then so would Claire. His pain was all he had left of her.

"So now you know," he finished, taking her stunned silence for rejection, because it's what should be there. It was what he deserved. Still, he couldn't look her in the eyes and see the disgust that he knew would lie in them, so he looked away as he continued. "I wasn't a good enough father to stay awake long enough to make sure my daughter was safe, nor suffer the consequences like a real man would. I'd understand if you don't want anything to do with me after this. Hell, I don't want to be around myself most of the time, to be honest."

Her laughter startled him and he looked up, her eyes not laden with rejection but with a compassion that instantly warmed his bleeding heart. "You silly man! Do you really still think I'm going to walk out on you? Even after everything you've heard me say just now." She shook her head, as if the very idea of it alone was completely preposterous. "You may very well be the best thing that ever happened to me. I'd be stupid to leave you."

"Sometimes I really don't understand you." In spite of his pain and the distress lingering even after his tale had been told, there was a smile on his lips as he looked at her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it as softly and reverently as she deserved to be kissed.

"Good," she chuckled, shifting so that she was beside him again, her body stretching out alongside his as she caressed his face. "I'd hate to become boring at some point."

"I don't think that will ever happen." He leaned in, kissing her lips, her face, anywhere he could reach as she spurred him on with the small sounds of pleasure falling from her lips whenever he took his mouth away from hers long enough. Her hands tucked into his soft hair one second then tugging at his clothes the next. Isabella's leg hitched over his of its own accord, bringing them as close together as their clothes allowed.

But he needed her closer. He _craved_ her closer.

"_Oh_!" she half-moaned, half growled, her hands getting more and more confident as they worked on the buttons of his Oxford, their bodies moving as if their clothes had already been lost.

It was clear she had never experienced anything like this before. Though her body moved with the natural certainty of a time-old instinct, her hands were trembling and her eyes, when opened, continuously searched his for reassurance.

And Edward was more than happy to give it her, his cock painfully hard as he rubbed against her, his mind forever torn between seeking his own pleasure and assuring hers.

_She's more important._

_She's more important._

_She's more important. _

He kept on repeating the same mantra over and over again, listening closely for the involuntary moans which poured from her lips every time he hit the right spot, her fingers digging deeper and deeper into his skin as he brought her slowly, but steadily, to the edge of a cliff she'd never stood on before.

And he loved it. Boy, did he love it! The look on her face as she fell apart beneath him drove him to the edge himself; the way her eyes were half closed with extreme pleasure and her mouth fell open in a quiet gasp as her body stilled, her fingers digging into the mattress beneath her in search of anything to hold on to as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her.

It was one of the most amazing things he'd ever seen in his life and, even though his erection was weeping in his pants for all the pleasures it had been denied, the satisfaction from eliciting that kind of reaction from her outweighed his own discomfort.

"Edward…that was…" she panted, her eyes shining and still slightly distant as she slowly came back to the earth.

"I know, love," he chuckled, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose…her lips. "And this is just the beginning."

"It gets better?" Her eyes widened as he nodded, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth again, doing nothing to will his erection away. "But you didn't…"

"That's not important," he lied, though it wasn't completely untrue. "Tonight is all about you." That part was the truth, even though his balls were blue to the point he was afraid they were going to explode if he didn't make it to the privacy of his bathroom to jack off soon, her pleasure was more important than his that night. He knew better than to push her and if they would pursue matters further, that was exactly what would happen.

She didn't seem completely convinced, her brows furrowed as she studied him. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he nodded, trying to convince himself as much as her. The sound of the alarm going off on her cell phone offered him the saving Grace he needed to remain the gentleman he'd promised himself to be, though his heart was heavy as he shifted his body away, allowing her the freedom of movement to switch off the little device. "Time to say goodbye, again."

"Will you be here tomorrow night?" Her face was averted, as it always was, but Edward didn't need to see it to know the fragile, vulnerable look in her eyes. His heart hurt, knowing that even after all the promises they'd made, she still expected him to bail.

_Not that he wasn't completely innocent of that sin himself. _

"I have to work." He sighed, wishing more than anything that he had a more nine-to-five kind of job. Not that he would seriously trade his career for anything but it would have made it a whole lot easier to meet up with her. "I'm covering half a shift for Maggie while she and the Reverend go out on a date or whatever they do…" He cringed, not really wanting to think of his colleague and the priest out on the town. "I'll be off in the morning, though. So we can still meet up then."

She nodded, a small smile breaking through. "Just let me know when you're ready."

He watched from the bed as she gathered her things, making sure she looked as pristine as if she'd just gone out for a late-night stroll through the garden instead of a roll in the hay with a man who was, by all intents and purposes, banned from the property. "I'll miss you."

"So will I." She leaned in for a kiss that grew more and more heated by the second, their hands clawing at each other as all of Isabella's hard work at putting herself back together again was destroyed in only seconds. "At least you will have the benefit of being able to move freely and talk about something else than stuff that seems to have come straight from a history book."

She made a face, prompting him to kiss the frowns away from her skin until they were both breathless again. "Now go," he urged her, using the last bit of his strength to move away from her again. "Before I won't be able to let you go."

"And whose fault is that?" she chuckled, though she took his advice, only her scent lingering in the air as she closed the door behind her.

He sighed, resting his head against the headboard as he tried to take stock of everything which had happened that night; his fear, their fight, her explanation of the agreement existing between her and James, his account of what had happened to Claire…it seemed ages ago now that he had spoken those words and feared their effects. In reality, though, it couldn't have been more than an hour. They were always on limited time.

It was only then that he picked up the jacket he'd hastily thrown aside when he came in, hours ago, his breath stuck in his throat when the blinking light on his phone told he had not just one but ten new messages and over a dozen missed calls waiting for him.

_Esme._

He dialed her number on his way back to the car, the tone of his sister's voice when she picked up immediately putting all his senses on high alarm. "Esme? What's going on?"

"Why the hell didn't you pick up your phone! I've been trying to reach you," she wailed, her anger springing more from anguish than from any actual anger. "Where have you been?"

"I...I've been with Isabella," he spoke dismissively, sensing there were more pressing questions to be answered. "What's going on, Es?"

"It's Rosalie," Esme's voice trailed off in a sob. "They brought her into the ER about an hour ago. Edward, she was…" Her voice faltered as Edward drew in a sharp breath, his mind imagining the worst. "How soon can you get here?"

"I'm getting into my car right now," he answered, pressing the button to unlock the doors as he spoke. "I'll be there in ten, fifteen at the most."

"Be safe, Edward," his sister muttered. "I know how you are behind the wheel sometimes and I can't handle having another one of my loved ones ending up in the ER tonight."

"Alright, then make that twenty," he promised, jamming his key into the ignition and starting the car. "Hang in there, sis." He disconnected the call as he rolled out of his usual parking spot behind the undergrowth, carefully hidden from the road in case someone would decide to drive out to the middle of nowhere.

He tore across the roads, steering deftly through all the twists and turns he knew so well until he arrived at the traffic light at the foot of the mountain; the absence of further traffic securing his swift procession through town.

His hands clenched around the steering wheel as he tried to fill in the blanks his sister's speech had left open. Something bad had happened to Rose – something very bad had to have happened to her since she ended up in the ER, and his sister in a state of utter devastation. But what could it be?

A car crash maybe? Or something to do with alcohol abuse? They'd had a few cases come in over the weeks where underage kids had gotten their hands on illegal alcohol and drank themselves into a coma. He had a hard time imagining Rosalie, with all her exalted ideas of becoming the next society queen, would do a careless thing like that, though. Anything with that could risk her pristine record was out of the question with her.

But then if it wasn't that, what was it?

The Waiting Room inside Forks General was buzzing when he came in, the nervous looks and pitiful glances of the staff catapulting him through the main hall and up the stairs to the first floor where he assumed his family would be.

"You're here. Thank God." He only got a quick glance at his sister's face before she'd flung herself around him, her tears wet on his throat as she cried into his shoulder. What he saw, though, was enough to send chills down his spine.

"Shh," he shushed, patting her back as if she were a child as she broke down, her body shaking with deep sobs. "It's alright, sis. I've got you." Rocking her gently from side to side he allowed his eyes to roam the small waiting room, which was empty except for a man snoozing in the corner. "Where are Carlisle and Jasper?"

"Carlisle has been in with Rose from the start," she explained, her words barely recognizable through her crying. "They won't let him do anything, of course, but at least he's able to hold her hand…"

Poor Carlisle. For a moment he was brought back to that day when he, like Carlisle, had been powerless to do anything but just sit there, hold his daughter and pray for the best. He didn't yet know what was wrong with Rosalie but he prayed Carlisle would never feel the pain he'd had with losing his own daughter.

"And Jasper?" he asked, forcing himself back into the present.

"He tore out of here as soon as Officer Howard told us what had happened," Esme sniffed, her muffled cries growing in intensity again. "There was nothing I could do to stop him, and I'm afraid… Oh Edward, it's so horrible. I cannot…"

"Shhh," he comforted her again, "it will be okay."

"They _raped_ her, Edward," Esme cried. "Royce and his friends…and when she tried to resist, they kicked her and hit her until she was broken and defenseless while they had their way with her and then they threw her out the door like she was garbage. How could they have done that to her?"

Edward may not have liked Rosalie much but still his heart broke, hearing his sister's explanation of what had happened to her, his hands balling into fists as he shook with a murderous rage. "Did the police get those motherfucking dirt bags?"

"They are looking for them now," Esme sobbed. "They think they are out in the woods somewhere near the old mill where everything took place. The police found a lot of empty bottles of booze and what looked like traces of cocaine…which must have been what fuelled all of this because I cannot imagine even Royce would do a thing like this. He always gave me the creeps, but this… it's so… so horrible."

"And Rose?" he asked, wanting to keep her talking both to help her through the first stage of grief, where things were just complete and utter chaos in your head and you were struggling to keep from getting pulled under.

"One of the workmen from the timber company found her on his way home. She was lying in a ditch, half naked and severely hypothermic. They are trying to get her warm again while they work on her other injuries."

Edward nodded, the various procedures his sister's adopted child was undergoing flashing through his mind. "What else?"

"She has a few broken ribs, maybe her pelvis too, and there's a nasty bruise on her head but, until she wakes up, they won't be able to assess the full extent of the damage," Esme continued, her breathing slowly coming down as her mind was given something else to do but worry. "Carlisle was optimistic, though. He told me that at least the external damage wasn't as bad as…" The rest was drowned out as Esme started to cry again, the horrific enormity of what had happened still too fresh and great for her to bear.

All Edward could do was hold her and be there for her as she tried to accept the damage left behind by the bomb that had just exploded underneath her life.

They stood there for what seemed like hours and it might as well have been just that, or it could have been just minutes, as the man in the corner kept snoring softly and no other sounds was heard except for Esme's soft cries and Edward's reassuring words that got more desperate with every seconds that passed.

In the end it was Rachel, of all people, who disturbed them with a cautious scrap of her throat, her discomfort showing the way she was fidgeting by the door as she tried to capture Edward's attention, her eyes apologetic as they finally connected with his.

"Do you have any news?" Esme asked breathlessly, her eyes frantic to a point that they startled the nurse.

"I think I heard someone say they were transferring her to recovery now," Rachel spoke, quickly pulling herself together again. "Doctor Cullen will be over with more news soon." Her lips twitched nervously as the crestfallen look on Esme's face, who'd undoubtedly expected more news. "I'm sorry. It was Doctor Masen I was coming to find."

Even in spite of the situation, Edward's eyes shot all the way into his hairline; Rachel's request taking him by surprise. "What do you want?"

If Rachel was offended or taken aback in any way by the tone of his voice, she didn't show it - her lips maintaining that perfect professional smile as she took a small step forward. "I think it's best we speak in private."

Her eyes were commanding enough for Edward to sigh and reluctantly peel his sister's arms from around his waist. "Do you think you'll be alright on your own for a little while?" he asked, waiting until his sister nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

He waited for her to nod once more before he left her, not looking back on the frail and grief-wracked figure of his sister as she slumped down into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs as he followed Rachel out of the room. "This had better be good."

"Do you really think I'd pull you out of that room for anything less than an emergency?" she snapped. "I may not have acted in a way I'm particularly proud of the other day but I'm not _that_ petty."

"Then what's going on?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience being tested to its limits as he waited for her to explain herself.

"Jasper and Emmett came into the ER just now, both of them sporting clear evidence of one hell of a fistfight." She smirked. "Now they may be stating high and low that they got into a fight with each other, but between those two being as thick as thieves lately and a call from dispatch coming in just now that they are bringing that King asshole in here horizontally and, from what I gather, in a pretty bad shape, I find I have some trouble believing them. I thought you might wanna know."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair as he gave her an apologetic smile. "Go on."

"I put both of them in exam room one and held off on alerting the cops for now," Rachel spoke. "I don't know how long I can keep them off the boy's backs, though, what with King being found the way he was."

"You did what you could," Edward acknowledged. "Thanks."

"I like those boys," Rachel remarked, wanting to make it very clear that she didn't want _him_ to feel indebted to her. "They are good kids." She marched off again, without giving him the chance to say anything else, leaving Edward with no other choice but to either go down to Emmett and Jasper in exam room one or go back to his sister.

He chose the latter, knowing the boys were probably in need of medical attention and a stern lecture on how foolish it was to take the law into their own hands, especially with Jasper still under probation after the stunt he pulled at the mill and Emmett's whole future riding on getting a full scholarship to a half-decent university. He would have been lying, though, if he wasn't also incredibly curious to find out how good they got to that disgusting son of a bitch.

"How is she?" Two eager, worried pairs of eyes immediately searched him out as he stepped through the door separating the exam room from the rest of the floor.

"Both of you would have known the answer to that question if you hadn't run out of here like a couple of mad bulls," Edward responded wryly, deliberately taking his time as he crossed the room and sat down on the doctor's stool. "But to put both of your minds at ease – Rose is as well as anyone can be after the ordeal she's been put through. She was coming out of the OR just now."

Both boys let out huge breaths of relief, though the tension still remained. "Did my dad say anything about her head injuries?" Jasper wanted to know.

"He's been in the OR with her since I arrived but he told Esme the outlook was good," Edward filled them in. "We'll only know for sure when she wakes up, though."

Emmett and Jasper shared a look, their jaws set in a hard line as they each digested the information Edward had given them in their own way. "We should have ended the motherfucker," Jasper finally growled.

"And end up in jail yourselves?" Edward questioned. "You'll be lucky if you get away with what you did. It's generally frowned upon when people take the law into their own hands."

"It's a small price to pay," Emmett shrugged, obviously being of the same mind as his friend. "And it's not like that slime ball would have gotten what he deserved if we'd just let the police handle this."

"You don't know that," Edward countered, setting to work on his initial examination of the two severely bruised right hands after determining that the few cuts and bruises to their faces were only superficial. "Rapists don't really get all that much respect in prison, I heard, and with a face as pretty as Royce's…he's bound to end up being someone's bitch."

That, at least, brought a smile to their faces, their good hands meeting in victorious fists as they both chuckled at the fate Royce would soon be finding himself in. "Payback is going to be a bitch!" Jasper growled approvingly.

Edward wisely refrained from answering or he would have pointed out how being raped as a prison inmate wasn't so different from being raped outside of the county jail. He had a feeling the boys would see things quite differently, even after all the things that had happened. "It looks like you were both lucky," he finally spoke after completing his assessment. "We're going to take you up to X-Ray to be certain but, for now, I don't think there are any breaks." And with a pointed look at Emmett, "or anything else that could have possibly ruined your career before you'd even started practicing for it."

Emmett had the good grace to frown as he rubbed the scabbing wounds on the top of his hands. "I guess I should be a bit more careful with these puppies if I wanna be a doc like you, huh?"

"Indeed," Edward replied sternly. "Pulling a stunt like the one you just did – no matter how much you and I know the asshole deserved it – could have gotten you kicked out of the program if you did it during your internship."

"Don't worry, doc," Emmett grinned, picking up on the one part of Edward's lecture that suited him. "We got him good."

Edward shook his head but before he could continue his lecture, one of the ER nurses interrupted. "Doctor Masen?" She waited until she had Edward's attention before she went on. "A man was brought into the ER just now after he took a tumble in the forest on the run from the police…" The look on her face made it clear which man – or miserable excuse for a man – she meant and it appeared that not just Edward had picked up on that. Looking sideways he saw Jasper and Emmett share a look of devious relief at seemingly being off the hook for their assault on Royce, because it was clear as that that he was the man who had just been brought into the ER. "Doctor Stephens is working on him at the moment but we need a surgeon to assess the trauma he sustained to the head, and Doctor Molina and Doctor Cullen are both still busy."

Edward nodded, knowing that Royce, just like any other patient, deserved proper care when brought into the ER, even though every bone in his body told him to just let the slime ball rot. "And Doctor Banner?"

"He's still on his way in from Port Angeles," the nurse explained. "I wouldn't have disturbed you if someone else had been available, what with your family connection to the Cullens... Do you think you can handle it?"

Edward sighed, knowing there was only one available option at that moment. "Alright, I'll be with you in a minute. Can you get someone to take these kids to X-Ray in the meantime."

The nurse nodded before she made her retreat, leaving him with two baffled young men. "You can't be serious about treating him, doc!" Emmett cried, wincing as he balled his bad hand into a fist.

"Of course I am," Edward growled back. "And so should you have been, if you were in my position. I'm a doctor, Emmett, which means that I will have to treat every patient the same whether I like it or not. In this profession you are going to come across gang members, drug dealers and drunk drivers who just took out a family with two little kids on the highway. If you aren't prepared to treat them just like you would treat their victims, you'd do better to look for another profession right now." He didn't waste time waiting for a response, knowing the boys probably still had a hard time wrapping their minds around what he'd just told them.

And he wasn't quite convinced of it either.

"Alright, what have we got?" he announced as he barged into the OR, taking in the scene of the patient, barely conscious but responding to pain stimuli as one of the ER doc's worked on him, Royce's hands secured to the gurney with metal handcuffs and a police officer standing vigil off to the side.

Doctor Stephens rattled off all of the information she had as Edward set to work, pushing his own repulsion to the back of his head as he did his work. "So, he fell down while on the run?" he called over his shoulder, already knowing the 'official' version of the story but wanting it confirmed for Emmett and Jasper's sake.

"Yep," the police officer nodded with a knowing smirk. "At least that's what we figure happened to him anyway. We found him like this at the foot of a hill, somewhere deep in the forest. The woods are a dangerous place to be in the dark."

Edward nodded, not feeling an ounce of guilt for collaborating in a lie as blatant as any he'd seen. "Especially when you're on the run for the police."

The officer nodded. "Looks like he got off quite easily, though."

"Looks like it," Edward answered, putting his tools aside as he peeled the gloves off his hands. Apart from a few bruised ribs and a busted lip and nose, Royce had gotten off almost scot free.

He sighed, throwing the latex gloves on the floor as he pursed his lips in frustration, trying not to think about the person these wounds belonged to but just of the fact that they were there.

He could treat them.

He _would_ treat them.

"I want an MRI just to be on the safe side, but it looks like there's no serious damage."

In his entire career, he'd never been as sorry to say those words as he was right then.

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_**Thoughts?**_

_**I am very honored to have this story up in the race for 'fic of the week' over at tehlemonadestand ( .net). Thank you so much to whoever rec'ed this story. Please vote?**_


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 26. **

_**The escape.**_

He could sense something was off the minute Isabella set foot inside the cabin, wiping her feet profusely on the doormat to shake off every last remnant of snow before hanging up her coat, all the while keeping her face averted.

"What happened?" he asked, noting immediately how his comment made her pull her shoulders up almost as if he was going to slap her. He sat up, halfway on his way to her, when she waved him away and instead came to him. "Did Aro have a bad day?"

"Everything's fine." She shrugged, his frustration rising with her evasive behavior. Why wouldn't she tell him?

"Don't lie to me," he grumbled, sighing deeply when his a-little-too-sharp tone had her withdrawing even further into herself. "I _want_ to help you, Isabella. I want to take care of you. but I can only do that if you let me."

"Well, I don't need any help," she bit back, fire shining where there had been defeat before. "I've always managed just fine on my own." Her defenses were up now and though Edward knew her harshness was just her natural reaction to anything she didn't want to do or reveal, it still frustrated him to no end that even after everything they'd been through together and every step they'd taken in the right direction, he still hit that same fucking wall every time he accidentally said the wrong thing. It hurt to sometimes find out that there were still parts of her she wouldn't let him into; that she still didn't trust him completely.

He let out a deep breath, his head falling back against the pillow as he rubbed his tired face. He couldn't do this – arguing with her – after the long and harrowing day he'd had but he knew he had to. "I didn't mean it like that, Bella."

For a moment she stood there, in the middle of the room, visibly torn between fight and surrender; her hands balled by her sides as she watched him, breathing sharply in and out. He could see the moment she made up her mind, her shoulders finally relaxing along with the rest of her body as her eyes softened. "I know that."

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," he went on, letting out a sigh of relief, "but when you come in like that; all distant and you look like you've just crawled out of the fiery pits of hell, I'm bound to ask you questions."

"I know," she repeated herself, warily taking a seat next to him on the bed as she hid her face behind her hair again, drawing the sleeves of her cardigan over her hands with her fingertips as she withdrew into herself.

But just like before, he wasn't having any of it, though this time his tactics were a bit gentler, his hands cautiously cradling her face, forcing her to meet his eyes as he spoke. "I love you, Bella. I spend most of my time worried sick about what that bastard may be doing to you while I'm not there to protect you." He gently placed his finger on her lips to silence her even before she could attempt to speak, briefly replacing his finger to his lips to taste her before he went on. "And I know you can protect yourself, just as you have these past twenty-two years. But I'm a _man_, Bella, and wanting to protect the people I love comes as a second nature to me."

"How very Neanderthal of you," Isabella ruefully remarked, though her lips were smiling and her eyes had that look in them that he loved so much; a soft look, a _loving_ look. "I love you, too, by the way. Even if you do behave like a caveman sometimes."

"Good." He nodded approvingly.

"It's just…" Like so many times before, when given some time, Isabella would explain herself at her own pace. "We finished the book last night." She sighed, her hands continuing to fidget with her sleeves as she bit her lip.

Edward took in a sharp breath, knowing the weight behind those words. "So it's done? _Really_ done?"

"We still have editing and revisions to go through but yeah…" She exhaled, her shoulders pulled up almost as if she wanted to withdraw into herself like a tortoise. "The whole storyline has been written. Anything that needs to be done now could also be handled by his editor."

"Come here." Edward smiled sadly, reaching over to pull her into his arms, her small, worn down frame fitting perfectly to his as he pulled her down with him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head as she lay perfectly still; not crying, not talking…nothing. It was as if the fight had suddenly completely gone out of her. "It will be okay, Bella."

"You'd think that with all of the trouble the old man gave me, I'd be glad to see the end of it, huh?" She laughed bitterly, clinging to Edward as she tried to breathe through her panic. "But now that the end is near…I just don't _know_. I'm all messed up on the inside." She sighed, her head rolling against his shoulder, the weakness in her voice almost breaking him as she muttered, "This whole thing is just one big old fucked up mess."

"Hey, don't say that," he offered, trying to lift her spirit again. "It got us together, didn't it? At least _one_ good thing came out of this."

"I guess that's true," she hummed, sniffling away the unshed tears. "It's just…I knew this was coming all along but now that it's here…"

"It's tough, huh?" Edward nodded, closing his arms around her a little more firmly as if somehow his physical closeness would keep away the pain. God, he hoped it would! "This may not be the end, though. He's made it this far, who's not to say he won't hold on for a little longer?"

"I can feel it." She shook her head, her eyes sad as she lifted up on her elbows to look at him. "He's only held on as long as he has so that he could finish his book. He may be stubborn enough to defy the laws of medicine but even he has his limits…"

He couldn't lie to her and say everything would be fine in the end, not with the two of them both knowing full well that it wouldn't be, so he settled for second best: holding her close, kissing her tears away and doing whatever he could to lift her spirits until that wretched alarm went off again, signaling the end of their time together.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked, doing a last check of her appearance in the mirror over the small, unused fireplace, her eyes squinting to make sense of her reflection against the faint light of the two candles they'd dared to lit for fear of James finding them in the dark if they made too much light.

"I hope so." He pursed his lips, wishing there was more he could promise her. "With everything at the house still being so…up in arms, I don't know if I can get away."

"I know," Isabella sighed, forcing a smile on her lips as she made her way back towards him, pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss. "Will you try, though?" Her voice was breathless but her need for him, both physical and emotional, still shone through.

"With everything I have." At least that was a promise he could easily make, his heart still too full of her to be kept away unless he had to. "I'll let you know if I can get away. I love you, angel. Be safe."

"I love you too." Her smile was tense and she was biting her lip as if she was going to say something but, deciding against it, she pulled away, her defenses going back up again as she distanced herself from her lover and got ready to face whatever was waiting for her at the house. "So I guess I'll be seeing you, huh?"

Edward smiled wryly. "I guess that's how it's going to be." He had grown to hate this version of Bella – Isabella; cool, detached and about as far away from the girl he sometimes got to see – his Bella – as she could get.

He'd learned early on not to think too much about the differences, though. What he was seeing at that moment was her game face and if he'd learned something over the years it was that everyone had one; a face they put on when it was crunch time, when they had to burn on all cylinders and leave whoever they were – whoever they _wanted_ to be – at the door.

Unlike most people, though, Isabella had to wear her game face almost twenty-four-seven and it was slowly but surely leading to her own destruction. Without it, though, he knew destruction would have come much faster. As much as he hated that she had to hide her true self whenever she wasn't with him, he knew that mask protected her from James and the destructive nature of his disease more than anything else.

He growled with sheer frustration, his rumble reverberating against the emptiness as the door clicked back in its lock. More than at any time before he wished there was more that he could do; more of a man he could be for her…more of a _protector_.

But there wasn't anything he could do and, feeling sorry for himself - as he'd learned over the past few days - wasn't going to help either. The best he could do was just get on with his life and pray nothing bad would happen; hope that Carlisle would know what to do to keep her safe and sound.

Pray and hope for the best.

He sighed, his head leaning against the backrest of the driver's seat as he switched on the ignition, the mellow jazz tones that poured from the stereo in stark conflict to the rage of emotions inside of him.

Every time he had to walk away or, more accurately, watch _her_ walk away, was getting harder. He wanted so much to go after her and take her away to some safe place…Chicago.

It hadn't been the first time the thought had popped up in his head. With the end of his suspension from St. Mary's fast approaching and James' condition almost deteriorating by the day, he'd been thinking about the future more and more. And every time he thought about it, she was in it.

Now if only James would be a good guy and die before his time in Forks was up. The probability of that happening was growing by the day, especially if he took what Isabella had just said into account, but at the same time they were cutting it awfully close. He knew better than to think he could prolong his stay in Forks until the old man kicked the bucket; too much had been invested in his career and the salvation of it – both by the hospital and himself, but mostly by his family – to give it all up now and, given the situation, he knew better than to ask for leniency.

But he couldn't leave his heart behind either. _Isabella_. He had to find a way to bring her along with him, whether the James had died or not, he wasn't going to leave this place without her, not even if he had to drag her down that fucking mountain kicking and screaming. Edward had to be sure she would be safe, with him, and as far away from James and his mind control as he could take her.

_Chicago_. She'd like it there, he knew that. He hadn't asked her yet and he knew he had to – she deserved to be in control of her own fate – but even the thought of having her there, in his life, in his town… He smiled, already seeing a life for the two of them unfold in his home town. There would be more than enough to capture her interest and a lot of opportunities for her to grow and discover herself.

He knew it was going to be tough, though. As far as he could tell, Isabella had never lived the kind of life normal people took for granted. For the past couple of years she'd been stuck halfway up a mountain with no computer, television or phone and with only the music and books her employer allowed. Taking her out of that protective shell would be a complete culture shock to her, especially because he suspected that even before she'd run into James Harrison, she'd always lived on the fringes of modern life.

And then there was his family. He would be naïve to think his mother and father would welcome her with open arms. Elizabeth had already been very vocal about her displeasure when she'd been there for her visit, even if she hadn't known half of the depth of his feelings for Isabella at the time, and he knew things wouldn't be different with his dad. After all, Isabella had no money, no 'name' and no social standing to entice Edward Sr.'s good opinion of her.

It didn't matter, though. His parents didn't matter. Their opinions didn't matter. Only Isabella mattered and if she'd come with him, he'd take her back to Chicago no matter how vehemently his parents protested against it.

And if she didn't? He would go wherever she'd want to.

But first, he would have to go home.

Another deep sigh left his chest at the thought of what awaited him. With Rosalie returned after a short hospital stay, things had been tense around the Cullen home and, for once, the girl wasn't even the main cause of it.

No, it was her mother this time.

Lillian had flown in from California the moment she'd heard what happened, barging into Forks like a tornado, determined to destroy whatever unfortunate thing happened to be in her path. And Carlisle and Esme appeared to be her main targets.

To Lillian, Royce King had only been the instrument of Carlisle and Esme's utter failure to keep her child safe from harm and what was more, she wasn't afraid say so; loudly and obnoxiously often. It didn't take Edward long to see why Carlisle had been so happy to get rid of her and move across the country to be as far away from that woman as he could be.

The worst thing – or was it a blessing in disguise? – was that Rosalie now too was starting to see that she'd worshipped the wrong parent for all those years; her face pulling into an awkward grimace whenever her mother entered the room to spew more venom over her father, her stepmother and the town.

_Poor girl._ Edward smiled wryly as he mechanically steered the car down from the mountain. He'd never thought he'd ever say those words in relation to Rosalie but there he was, actually feeling sorry for the girl. For the past few years she'd clung to the ruins of what used to be her family with a ferocity that made her unable to accept the new life her father had built for himself and his family after his divorce. No, fuelled by her mother's resentment and her own pain and fear, Rosalie had resisted everything that had happened in her life since her parent's divorce until it ate away at her.

She had been wrong to do so but in no way did her punishment befit the crime she was guilty of.

It had changed her; that much was certain even from a fleeting glance at the poor girl. Before that, she had been the summit of what most men found appealing: young, blonde and pretty, lively - though not in an altogether appealing way for him - and with friends for the picking. Now only an empty shell remained; a broken girl with empty eyes who shied away from almost all interaction with other human beings and talked only when strictly necessary.

What had happened to her had broken her, seemingly beyond repair. And was it any wonder?

He made his way into the house as quietly as he could, a technique he'd perfected through many late night encounters with Isabella. He knew that technically there was no point in sneaking in after he came back, seeing as everyone in the house already knew where he was and why he'd be home late. But still, he didn't want to wake them up by thundering back into the house like a stampede of buffalo.

He'd already done more than enough to upset the normal routine of his sister's household, no need to add to that.

Like a master-thief, he managed to manipulate the kitchen door in a way that made it click into the lock with barely a sound, a smug grin starting to creep onto his face until the scrapping of a throat behind him made him jump like a little girl.

"Hi." It could have been the faint light but for a minute he thought Rosalie might actually be smiling; the first smile he'd seen on her face since it happened and maybe even long before that.

"God, you scared the hell out of me!" He panted, for a moment forgetting who he was talking to.

Rosalie merely raised an eyebrow. "You're sneaking into the house at two in the morning and you're accusing _me_ of scaring the hell out of you?"

"I know." He cringed only then realizing that scaring a girl who'd been through what Rosalie had been forced to go through wasn't exactly beneficial to her healing process. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She sighed, her hands folding around the steaming mug of tea she held inside them. "You couldn't have known I was here and...and, as scared as I was for a moment there, it actually felt good to have someone react normal around me for a change, do you know what I mean?"

He nodded cautiously. "I guess so."

"I know it's only been a few days but I'm already so sick of everybody treating me like I'm going to die," Rosalie sighed, her face taking on the look of displeasure he'd come to know so well. "I don't know how to do this being, um, weak and having people look at you with nothing but pity. I…" her voice broke as her hands tightened around her cup. "All my life people have looked at me only with admiration or jealousy and I know I'm shallow and self-centered but I don't want that to change. I just…I want to forget it ever happened; act like it doesn't exist."

"I know the feeling." Edward nodded, dipping into his own past as he recalled what it had been like to simply want to ignore. Hell, part of him still did on a daily basis. "When my Claire…when my daughter first died the only way I could make it through the day was to act as if it hadn't happened; as if she was just having a sleepover at my stepmom's and would be back the next day." He sighed, the pain of his memories still stinging like it had when they had happened, even though he'd learned to live with it over the years. "The problem is though that while it's good to pretend for a little while, something will inevitably happen to pull you out of your denial and when it does, you're forced to relive your pain over and over again until it kills you. Believe me."

"Is that why you started taking drugs?" She asked, chuckling when she noticed how Edward balked at her blunt statement. "Mom and dad talk sometimes, when they think Jazz and I aren't listening."

He nodded, answering her question. "It made it easier for me to keep denying the truth."

"I can kind of see the appeal now," she nodded. "Don't worry, though. Dad's been monitoring my pain meds from the start."

"Good to know." Edward smiled wryly. At least something had been learned from his past. "Did they give you names of people to talk to."

"You mean therapists?" Rosalie interrupted. "You can say it like it is, Edward; I'm not gonna cry if you call the beast by its name."

"I don't think my shrink would like to be called a beast, though," he joked, "but I got ya."

"I got some names," Rosalie nodded, turning serious again. "I don't know how much use they are since I'm not planning on sticking around."

"You're not?" Edward frowned. "But I thought you and your mom-"

"Aren't as close anymore as we used to be?" Rosalie finished. "You got that right. But for now, I want to get away from this place even more than I want to get along with whoever I'm leaving with." She sighed, her unhappiness rolling of her in waves. As he subconsciously took a step in her direction to offer some sort of comfort, though he wasn't sure what kind of comfort he could ever offer the girl, her sharp intake of breath and the way she seemed to curl up into a ball wanting to protect herself from a non-existent danger, made him think twice about it.

"Do you want me to go?" he offered, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable on top of everything she was trying to deal with.

"Nah." She sighed, blowing a few strands of hair that had fallen loose from her uncharacteristically messy bun out of her hair. "You can say as long as you keep to your side of the kitchen." She chuckled nodding at the unspoken boundary that had seemed to spring up somewhere halfway across the kitchen table. "As I said before, it's good to actually have someone around to talk to who doesn't fuss over me the way my parents do, or my brother who threatens to kill half the town at the end of every sentence he speaks."

Edward chuckled. "Yeah, there's that." Where Carlisle and Esme, and even Lillian to a point, had taken in the news with the devastation of any parent who had just seen the bright and beautiful future they wanted their child to have shattered into a million pieces, Jasper was just pissed off and apparently remodeling Royce's face had only taken the edge off for him.

Nope, he seemed to be pretty determined not to stop until every single one of those punks who'd assisted in the assault on his sister were dead and buried - and to say that he was kind of vocal about his desire to do so would be the understatement of the year.

"I know they mean well and I'm really lucky to have them around, especially after the way I've been treating them for the past couple of years, but I don't think they realize how hard it is for me to move on – to _really_ get through this, you know what I mean? When even the expression on their face as they look at me – or _not_ look at me – reminds me of what happened." She let out a frustrated growl. "I don't want to let this destroy me! It would mean that he won and I'll die before I let that happen!"

"Hold on to that feeling," Edward nodded, smiling at the old feistiness returning into her eyes. Who could have known that one day it would be his greatest ally? "Anger's going to get you places; misery will only eat at you."

"Anger is what got me here," Rosalie admitted with a bitter smile. "I know what you're saying but I think I'm done being angry."

It was only then that Edward stopped to think about the huge change in her, apart, of course, from the one he'd been witness to all along. Up to that point in their conversation he'd been so busy tiptoeing around everything that might cause her pain that he hadn't even been aware of the fact that he was actually having a grownup conversation with Rosalie Cullen; a conversation without swearing or yelling or her storming off in a fit of rage. He liked it, though he was shocked to see the change in her. "You've done a lot of soul-searching over the past couple of days, haven't you?"

She shrugged. "There's not much else you can do when you're stuck in bed and unable to sleep at night. I bet you'd say it was high time anyway, huh?"

"Not to your face, perhaps," Edward admitted. "What did you find?"

"I found…" She let her voice trail off into a deep sigh. "I found that I didn't like the person I'd become." She took a pause, a tense smile letting Edward know that she wasn't having an easy time, bearing the uglier sides of her soul for the entire world to see. "When Mom and Dad announced they were getting a divorce, it came as a complete shock to me."

She chuckled as if to laugh away her own stupidity as she pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands much like Isabella always did when she was nervous. "I know I should have seen it coming or at least picked up on the fact that something was wrong – I know Jasper did – but with Dad always at work and Mom so busy with her job at the university, I just thought they were working on their careers, not fleeing into work because they hated each other's guts."

"You were pretty young when it happened," Edward offered. "It must have been a complete shock."

She nodded. Her eyes anywhere but at him, much like it had been ever since she'd woken up in the hospital. "I loved the life I had in California," she mused. "I never wanted to leave, so when Mom and Dad sat us down and told us they were getting a divorce and that we would be going to Forks with him while she would join a research ship…I guess I just lost it. I still miss Malibu so much."

"Is that why you want to go back with your mom?" Edward asked, the question toppling from his mouth before he could check himself and let her speak in her own pace.

"Part of it," she agreed, "but most of it is about getting away from Forks and all the memories…and the people." This time Edward waited patiently, knowing from the tone of her voice that more would come. He wasn't mistaken.

"You know, on my first night at the hospital I overheard two people talking…" She paused, her body almost caving into itself as she sat, curled up into a small ball. "They were talking about me…and about what happened and…I'll never forget one of them - a woman - saying she thought he was a despicable pig for what he did, but I'd had it coming too for the way I'd been acting."

"Shit!" he cursed, "Rosalie…that's not…"

"Save your breath," Rosalie interrupted him. "I know what you're going to say and, though I think it's sweet of you to defend me even with the way I've been acting, I know it will only be a half truth. The fact of the matter is that I didn't deserve what happened to me but I never did anything to stay on Karma's good side either."

"This is not a punishment for bad behavior," Edward countered. "What happened to you was a crime, nothing else, and the guys who did it deserve to be punished, _not_ you."

"Maybe." She sighed, shrugging her shoulders as she tried to play it down like nothing of significance though it was easy to spot the lie in the tense set of her shoulders and…just the whole situation. "I don't know. I just…I _wish_ I could just fast-forward to a time when it gets easier to cope with what happened…or go back in time and stop it from happening in the first place."

Edward nodded. "I know how you feel."

She gave him a sympathetic smile, her head tilting sideways and her eyes narrowing as she looked at him pensively. "Will it ever get better, though?"

"They say it will," Edward sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "But, to be honest, I'm still waiting for it to happen almost as much as I am dreading the day that the loss of my baby girl will be nothing more than a memory."

"It's different for you, I guess." Rosalie nodded. "I know that if I never have to think about _him_ again, it will be a blessing."

"I'm beginning to see why it may be a good decision to move away," Edward finally admitted, though the uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach still remained. He knew Carlisle and his sister would be crushed by her leaving, even if they too would see that it was really for the best.

"Are you sure you want to move in with your mother, though?"

"Not at all." She cringed, her eyes once again trained to the now cooling cup of tea. "If my mom had asked me a year ago, I would have jumped at the chance to move back in with her but now…she was the one who made sure my anger was kept alive every time I spoke to her. I'm afraid of what will happen when I move in with her again, but what other options do I have?"

In that moment, he truly felt for her. He may have had his reservations about Rosalie in the past but no one deserved to be stuck between a rock and a hard place quite the way the young girl sitting across from him was.

"You could talk to your dad or Esme," he offered. "I'm sure that when you explain how you feel, they will be more than happy to look at some options with you or, if all else fails, I would be more than happy to help you out."

"Thanks, but no thanks." She smiled, letting out a deep breath. "I really appreciate the offer and I think the old me would have taken you up on it without a moment's doubt but to me, right now, it would feel wrong. I don't want to upset Dad and Esme's life any more than I already have and I know how much they like it here. As far as your offer goes…I really don't want to be out there on my own at the moment and…and I really don't think I deserve to take you up on it….if you know what I mean." She looked so sad and regretful at that moment that he wished she could let him do something – _anything_ – for her but he knew better than to push.

He smiled back at her. "I do, but I want you to know that whenever you want to get away, my offer still stands."

"You know," she mused, grinning at him from across the table, "I might have been wrong about you. You're not so bad."

"Thanks." He grinned back, his mind still trying to process the huge change in the girl sitting across the table from him as he absorbed the compliment. "You're not that bad yourself, actually. And that's saying something."

"I guess we both got off on the wrong foot, huh?" Rosalie said, the pensive look back on her face as her smile turned slightly melancholy.

"Yeah." His voice trailed off into a loud yawn as suddenly his tiredness from being up all day and, now, throughout most of the night started to catch up on him. "I guess it means I should be heading to bed, huh? Will you be alright on your own down here or would you like me to keep you company?"

"Nah." She shook her head, "You go get some sleep. Dad had cable installed here as soon as we moved in. I've got more than enough television stations to keep me company."

"It's been good talking to you," Edward admitted, his mind still completely boggled by the fact that he was telling the truth.

"Yeah." Judging from the look on her face, Rosalie seemed to be of the same mind.

"Now go away, will ya?" she added jokingly. "I've got some crappy soap opera's waiting for me."

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_**Thoughts? **_


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 26. **

_**The home stretch.**_

_A few days later._

"Don't stop." Her voice was breathy and thick with desire, the sound of it only spurring him on as his fingers hovered over the thin fabric of her panties.

"Are you sure?" he asked, swallowing hard as he forced his eyes up to hers instead of on the enticing sight of her body covered in so little that she was almost naked. He took his hand away, earning a small dissatisfied whimper from her. "You don't have to-"

"I _want_ to." Her voice was sure if not a little desperate as her hand closed around his, putting it back where she wanted it.

It was all he needed to hear to make the small semblance of control he'd fought to hold on to slip, igniting a fire in his hands, his lips, his bones as he kissed her deeply, his fingers stroking her over the thin strip of fabric separating him from her before slipping under to find her wet and ready for him.

"Fuck!" he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as his index finger moved to the top of her slit, the contrast between the soft yielding wetness and the course curls surrounding it as Isabella's gasp of pleasure filled the air almost too much for him to absorb. "You feel so good, baby…I can't wait…"

"I…I…_Oh God_!" Her voice trailed off into a whimper as he rubbed her, the sensation of his skin touching hers without a barrier to numb the effect taking her to places she'd never imagined seeing in this life.

"That's right, angel," he hummed, kissing her red hot cheek as his thumb took over for his index finger, allowing him to tease her opening before slipping inside, a moan escaping his throat as she welcomed him. _So warm. So wet_. "Let go."

"I don't…" she panted uncertainly, through as unknowledgeable as her mind was, her body seemed to know just what to do as it squirmed under his touch, her back arching, driving his finger even deeper inside of her as he continued his ministrations, completely in awe of the sight of her. _So beautiful. _

"You do, angel." He chuckled, his eyes closing with a deep groan as he kissed a hot trail from her lips down to her chest, taking one pebbled nipple between his lips as he slid another finger inside of her. _So tight._

He couldn't wait until it was his cock inside her, his impatient side whispering at him to just forget about taking it easy and bury himself to the hilt inside her wet heat with every thrust of his fingers, but yet again, there was the cautious side of him that knew the importance of waiting for her to be ready to take that next step; the side that was as nervous for it to happen as he had been when he lost his virginity. The only thing he could do was hope he'd last longer.

Not a lot of thoughts were wasted on the subject, though, as his favorite sight in the whole world was gearing up to make a reappearance as he felt Isabella's body tense up underneath him, a deep, sultry moan pouring from her lips as she came.

_What a sight_. He was hard as a rock in his pants, his dick throbbing as he drank in the vision that was Isabella; her usual control slipping as her back curled and her heels dug into the mattress in an attempt to find purpose as her body rocked with the intensity of her orgasm until she fell back; eyes shiny and cheeks rosy as her body flopped almost bonelessly against the mattress.

He would never get enough of her.

"Thank you," she whispered, her slightly parted lips begging to be kissed.

So he did, his hips moving of their own accord as her naked body stretched out along his almost fully clothed one. "My pleasure," he muttered, her skin breaking out in goose bumps as his hand slid from the back of her neck down her arm to land on her ass. "You're so beautiful."

She smirked as if she didn't believe him before her face turned serious again, his frown matching hers as he picked up on the shift in atmosphere. "What?"

"Let me give you pleasure too," she blurted out, blushing furiously at the words falling from her lips; words she was still so new to using.

"Isabella, I-," he started to say, only to be interrupted almost immediately.

"You always tell me no," she pouted, "but then it hardly seems fair to be the only one being able to feel all of this…this amazingness."

"I do feel it," he was quick to assure her, adding a little lie for her benefit, "and giving such pleasure to you is more than enough for me." It wasn't that he didn't want her to reciprocate, hell, part of him could think of nothing but what it would feel like to have her lips wrapped around his cock or her little hands pumping him, but he just didn't think she was ready for it. _Not yet. _He didn't want to push her into doing things she wasn't ready for…and she was so, so innocent where it came to men and sex. He'd wait…even if it killed him.

"But then why deny me that same enjoyment?" she countered, the smartness of her reply making Edward smirk. She had him there. "I want to learn about your body as much as you've learned about mine. I want to please you, and I'm not just talking about the happiness you get from watching me."

He sighed, closing his eyes, his voice probably unlike any other man's had ever been at the prospect of an imminent handjob - or even better. "Alright, as long as you think you're ready." There was something in her eyes that told him that, contrary to what he may have thought a minute or so ago, she was ready now. God help him.

His eyes opened just soon enough to watch her swallow thickly, though her eyes were shining with triumph as her lips pursed in quiet contemplation. "I'm ready."

"Okay." His voice was awfully high and thin, his heart throbbing with anticipation as he watched her fingers set to work, releasing button after button of his dress shirt before discarding it on the floor, her hands running a trail of discovery along his chest as she took her time to explore all of the new skin she uncovered.

"Does this feel the same as it feels for me?" she asked, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bashful as she ran the tips of her fingers over his nipples and further down the hard planes of his chest.

"I couldn't tell you," he forced the words out, his mind almost mad with desire, "but it sure feels damn good."

She nodded, obviously mulling over his words, as one of her hands trailed lower, setting to work on the clasp of his belt as her other hand started to become less determined in its ministrations. She was nervous, that much he could tell. "Can you…" she looked at him and then at the still zipped fly of his pants as if some monster was about to crawl out. "How? I mean… What?"

"Just relax," he breathed, trying to assume some sort of rational command over his mind. "Just follow your instincts." It had served her so far so good, so why not assume it would turn out to be a great tactic to play in the sack. Right?

"Holy…_fuck_!" he gasped, his hands balling into fists by his sides as her hands traced the hard line of his erection through his pants as she went about unzipping them. This was going to be over before he knew it. Edward could just tell. It had been too long…so long, since he'd been with a woman.

"Am I hurting you?" her panicked voice barely registered above his lust-filled thoughts.

"Nope," he somehow managed to wheeze. "You're doing just fine."

"Good," she muttered, his eyes squeezed firmly shut as he obediently lifted his hips, helping her discard his pants and boxer briefs.

He knew that if he looked at her, it would all be over before it even began. God, he was feeling like a teenager again!

It was when nothing happened afterwards that forced him to open one of his eyes to see what the hell was going on - or _not_ going on - to have made her stop. If he hadn't been so pent up, the look on her face would have been amusing as she stared at his erect cock as if it was an alien life form. As it was, though, he was all but struggling to keep himself from shouting directions. Her inaction was almost killing him with impatience.

Her eyes were half panic, half eager anticipation as she looked at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "W-what do I do now?"

"Wet your hands," he ordered, having learned the hard way years ago that dry hands made for awkward and painful situations. "Now wrap them around me."

She hesitated for a slight moment, her fingers hovering above his cock as it twitched, before finally wrapping around him, the deep, rolling groan rumbling from his chest immediately making her pull back as if his cock were made of fire. "What? Am I doing it wrong?"

"Don't stop!" he growled, needing to feel her hands back on him, his head only falling back against the pillow again as her small hands wrapped around him once more, her instinct taking over as they started to move, his body already so strung out on lust that he could feel himself careening headfirst into his orgasm after only a few passes of her hands up and down his shaft.

_Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, _he chanted to himself.

Emboldened by his sounds, Isabella's movements started getting more certain, her hand wrapping a little tighter around his shaft as she pumped him, making it even harder for Edward to hold on.

_Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on, _he begged his body to slow down his release, not wanting this to end so quickly.

Every muscle in his body was tense as he held on by sheer force of will for a little while longer, the ministrations of her moist, little hands too good to make him last any longer than what he deemed enough to at least save face.

_So fucking good. _

A string of barely muffled curses fell from his lips as he let himself go, his eyes squeezed shut as he spurted all over his stomach in thick waves until he was utterly spent, his smile apologetic even though he knew she had no source of reverence when it came to embarrassingly quick orgasms as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Was it…was I any good?" Isabella asked hesitantly, the way she was nervously biting her bottom making him want to be hard again. Hard and inside her.

"Bella, that was…_amazing_," he reassured her, his lazy grin telling her everything she needed to know as she lay back, tenderly brushing a few sweat-slicked strands of hair out of his face. _Understatement of the fucking year. It was the best he'd ever had. _

"I can see why you like doing that to me now," she remarked after a while. "I liked doing it…watching you."

"Good," he groaned, his self-control hanging on by a thread with her talking like that, "because now that you've got me going, I don't think I'm ever going to want to stop."

"No more talking?" she teased, the devious, satisfied smile on her lips telling him she was as happy about the turn of events as he was.

He fake-huffed, beaming back at her as he playfully laced her fingers with his. "Talking's overrated."

Taking his own advice to heart, he just lay there, after finding something to clean himself up with, on that small bed inside the tiny cottage with the wind sweeping around the wooden walls and the comforter he'd grabbed from his sister's linen closet pulled tight around their naked bodies to keep away the cold.

He felt closer to her than he ever had, and it wasn't just from the lack of clothing separating his skin from hers. It was because as much as he liked talking to her and exploring that extraordinary mind of hers, they didn't need those words to let the other know how they were feeling. They just _knew._

"Do you think it would be like this if we managed to get away?" Isabella's voice finally broke the silence.

"It _will_ be," he spoke with a certainty he didn't really have. He sighed as, as if on cue, the alarm on his phone went off. "It will be so amazing when we get to have this all the time; when we won't have to say goodbye anymore…just 'see ya later'." As reluctantly as he'd gotten used to it, it still stung every time he had to watch her walk away from him, knowing he couldn't follow her or even be sure she was doing okay.

He knew she was still editing, the lies not coming as easily to her as she may have thought them to come as she talked about the situation at the house. What he did know for certain, though, was that James' condition was rapidly deteriorating and that his worsening health was affecting Isabella more than she was letting on. Much more.

And he couldn't blame her. As much as he had wanted to kill the man for hurting her, he had been the one who literally raised her from the gutter when she had nowhere to go but to an even deeper circle of hell than the one she was already in. He didn't trust the man one bit, but he accepted the fact that she owed a lot to him and that some sort of bond had been established between the two of them over the years.

It hurt to see her in so much pain, though, especially since she wouldn't let him help her. _Stubborn, insufferable angel girl. _

"Call me if something happens, okay?" he narrowed his eyes, wanting her to know he wasn't kidding, as he lowered his lips to hers for a goodbye kiss. "Or just…call me. Period." There was nothing that could get him through the long shift ahead of him quite like hearing her voice at some time throughout his day.

"I'll see if I can distract James for long enough to slip away upstairs," she nodded hesitantly. "But don't worry about me if I can't call."

"Too late, because I already do." He smiled wryly, pulling the thick coat a little higher around her neck to protect her from the blisteringly cold wind as they stood outside the little cabin saying their goodbyes.

"Silly man!" she fake huffed, her gloved fingers brushing against his as she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "You know I always survive."

Her answer reminded him of many a conversation he had with Carmen, back when he was little and taking too many risks climbing trees and roughhousing with other boys in the park. His answer to her was the same one he always got. "But even a cat only has nine lives."

"As long as I can still outrun him, I know I'm safe," she shrugged, his frustration high, as always, when she downplayed the danger she was in, living with a man who by any means could be described as 'unstable'. "But I'll call you as soon as I suspect something's up."

"Be safe, Bella," he begged her, kissing her one last time before letting go. "_Please_? It's not just your heart you're taking care of here."

"Same thing goes for you," she muttered, biting her lip as she took a small step backward. "Be careful around the turns as you drive down the mountain. The road may be slippery from yesterday's snow."

He kept her words in mind as he carefully navigated down the mountain, as the tires barely kept their track on the road and the ice reflecting in the headlights making him have to keep every ounce of attention on what he was doing as opposed to his usual absentmindedness as he made the same journey back to town.

The slippery roads also made for a busy workday, the early birds already trickling into the ER as he came in but cases stacking up as more people were forced to exchange the safety and warmth of their homes for the icy conditions on their way to where they'd been headed. He spent the majority of his day ruling out concussions and spinal injuries without ever once seeing the inside of an OR. If he'd had time to think about it, he would have been utterly frustrated.

Maggie was looking as worn out as he was as she joined him at the nurse's desk, scribbling something on one chart before grabbing another, her concentration making place for a teasing smile as she grinned at him. "Well, if it isn't Doctor Spectacular. Enjoying your final couple of weeks in the outback?"

"I am," he admitted, even though at the moment he would murder for a good neuro-procedure coming his way. "And you know me better by now than to assume I can't wait to get out of here."

"You're right," Maggie answered with her usual irony. "I've heard you've become quite…attached to the area."

"It has its charms," Edward joked along with her. "And I believe even you admitted a long time ago that I wasn't so bad." Over the past couple of months he'd not only rediscovered his own strength and confidence on the floor but also his joy in practicing medicine again. He had always known that being a surgeon was what he'd wanted to do with his life, but the passion? It was back now and he couldn't wait until he really got to hone his skills in Chicago and show his bosses and peers that he was made of the good stuff after all.

He was up to the challenge now.

"Not so bad for a young doctor whose head is still a few sizes too big for his shoulders, you mean?" Maggie countered; whatever she had wanted to add dying on her lips as Carlisle joined them, looking rather worse for wear.

"Do you have a minute?"

Edward looked up from the chart he had been updating as Maggie happened upon him, his hand hovering just above the paper as he took in Carlisle's haggard appearance.

"Of course." He knew inwardly something was wrong; the defeated look in his brother-in-law's eyes making his heart beat in his throat as his mind immediately jumped to the one thing in life that mattered to him.

Isabella's health and safety.

"Is everything okay?" he breathed as soon as they were out of earshot from the other hospital staff. "Isabella? Is she-"

"Oh, yes, she's perfectly fine, I think," Carlisle muttered absentmindedly, "but I assume you saw her since the last time I went up there to pay James a visit, so I should probably be asking you that question."

"This isn't about Isabella?" Edward frowned, the whole thing not making sense to him. Why the hell was Carlisle so upset if it didn't have anything to do with his one and only patient.

"Is Esme alright? The kids?"

"They are fine, Edward, don't worry," Carlisle sighed. "It's Daisy…Daisy Brown?"

_No_. He breathed out a defeated sigh, remembering the old lady slowly succumbing to cancer in one of the rooms upstairs who'd made him laugh so many times during rounds. "She passed away?"

"Early this morning," Carlisle nodded. "She was one of my first patients when I started working here. Did you know that?"

"No, she never told me," Edward answered, his voice as unsteady as his brother-in-law's as flashed of their last conversation played out in his mind. She'd been so weak and in so much pain but, still, she'd managed to crack a joke about how delectable his ass looked in his scrubs.

"She came in with what she told me was a sore leg, which later turned out to be a tib-fib fracture." Carlisle shook his head, laughing slightly even in spite of his obvious grief. "It was just like her to play it all down like it was no big matter just so that the people around her weren't upset."

"I know," Edward chimed in. "She tried to do the same thing when she was in here." It had been many times that he walked past her room, seeing her in so much pain that it tore at him not to be able to do something – _anything_ – to help her. The second she spotted him, though, she somehow managed to put on the mask, trying to act as if she was merely waking up from a small nap even though the gray, pallor of her face and the deep pain lines that marked it spoke differently.

"I was the one she came to when she first suspected something was wrong," Carlisle continued, his body slumped in defeat on his chair as he rubbed his face. "I knew it as soon as I ran her blood count and I think she did, too, since both her father and her brother died of cancer as well. " He shook his head again. "I think she knew it even before she came over here."

"She's in a better place now," Edward muttered, knowing his words to be as lame as he felt them to be, even if it was the only thing he could think of to say. "I think she will have been relieved to reach the end of her pain."

"I know." Carlisle let out a long breath again, his chair turning so that he could see the rising sun through his window. "It's just…it feels like my whole life is slipping through my fingers and I can't do a damn thing to stop it."

"You mean with Rosalie…" Edward didn't need to finish the sentence, the underlying meaning so clear to both men the words had simply become superfluous.

"I hear she's been talking to you?" The bitterness was thick in Carlisle's voice as he swiveled his chair, not looking at the man in front of him for confirmation of something he already knew to be a fact. "It's good that she has someone to talk to. I just wish…"

"I think every parent in this situation would wish that," Edward answered, ill at ease but determined to keep it together for Carlisle's sake. "But I think for Rosalie it was easier to talk to someone she didn't have as strong a bond with as she has with you."

"Then there's the silver lining for you!" Carlisle chuckled, sarcasm clear in his every movement. "All these years I thought my job had left me unable to bond with my children and then, just as my total failure as a parent and protector is complete, it seems I have managed to do at least something right. Not that it's doing me much good right now."

"You did a whole lot more good than you give yourself credit for," Edward muttered, not quite knowing what to do with this version of his boss and brother-in-law. It unnerved him to see his confidence so shaken and the man so…brittle. It was as if the life had drained out of him. "As awkward as I know it's going to be, I think you and Rosalie should talk. She has a higher opinion of you as parent than you may think."

"I just wish I knew what to talk about," Carlisle admitted, tapping his fingers against the polished wood of his desk as his lips pressed into a hard line. "It feels like I've lost my connection to both of my kids along the way."

"Then try to get it back," Edward urged him. "Work for it. _Fight_ for it, if you have to. If I've learned anything from my time here in Forks, it's that some things are worth fighting for and that nothing is impossible as long as you keep on doing just that."

"That's what you want to do?" Carlisle's face turned inquisitive as he gazed at Edward. "Fight for Isabella?"

"With all the means that I have," Edward admitted immediately. "Hell, I'll fight as dirty as I have to if it means I get to keep her in my life."

"Then you should probably know that early this morning I called James' daughter, as per his instructions." Carlisle's voice was cool and controlled with his mind back in doctor-mode as he spoke, but Edward could hear the undercurrent of tension in his voice. And he didn't like it one bit. "She's flying in tomorrow."

"As per his instructions?" Edward frowned, trying to put two and two together. "You mean he told you to do it the last time you visited with him?"

Carlisle shook his head. "He'd already informed me of his wishes back in the early days when he had just become my patient. He told me he wanted his daughter to be there when he died." Carlisle let out a deep breath, the one that told Edward how difficult it was for his colleague to accept that his patients' days were numbered and severely dwindling even though they'd known it would come to this all along. It didn't make it any easier, though, to watch a patient you'd cared about for years – even if the patient wasn't a very amiable man at times – die. "Yesterday when I went over there for my usual checkup I told him that, if he still wished me to do so, I thought the time to contact her had come."

"So he's dying?" Edward confirmed, waiting for the other man to nod before he let out his own sigh, the many pleasant moments chatting with what had once been a brilliant and very erudite man for a moment overpowering the hatred he'd come to feel for James as he learned more about the man's treatment of Isabella. "Wow."

"Yeah, I know." Carlisle nodded gravely. "I knew it would come and I've spent hours trying to prepare myself, and James, for the inevitable, but now that the time is here…" He shook his head as his voice trailed off, the sadness in his eyes telling Edward more than words ever could.

"I hadn't realized his condition had deteriorated so much," Edward admitted, not without shame. Should he have been more mindful of his former patients' wellbeing? He still spent almost every day in the company of the woman – the beautiful, sweet woman – who cared for him. Even though his time with her was so precious that it would almost feel like a minute spent discussing James when he should be kissing her, touching her, or loving her was a waste of time, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

That and slightly hurt. Why hadn't Isabella confided in him? She must have known James was dying all along. Why didn't she say something?

"I mean," he went on, scrambling to remember what Bella had told him the last time they discussed the old man, "she told me she worried about what would happen now that the book's finished but I never realized…"

"You never realized she was telling the truth, huh?" Carlisle finished for him, his voice amused. "It's amazing sometimes how reluctant our professional arrogance sometimes makes us to accept the observations of others."

"It seems like it, yeah." Edward scratched the back of his head. "So it really went the way she said it did?"

Carlisle took a few moments to think his words through before speaking. "His condition had already started deteriorating severely after he took a tumble in his own home and, even more so, when he found out about Isabella and you but yes, as soon as he finished his novel, I could see he was giving up; his reason to live no longer there for him to try and hold on for."

"But why his daughter?" Edward asked, only now feeling like he was master of the situation enough to ask the one question that had been preying on his mind ever since Carlisle had made his announcement. "Why not his wife or his other kid. I believe he has two, doesn't he?"

"He does," Carlisle nodded, "but I believe his relationship with his son has been very bad ever since James made the announcement about his disease to his children. From what I gather from the bits and pieces he's told me over the years, they were both devastated but where Jane sort of embraced her fate and got tested to find out she wasn't a carrier of the FFI-gene, Alec took the news a lot harder. I think that to this day he blames his father for the possible death sentence he had been handed and the effects it has on his life."

"Then why not get himself tested?" Edward frowned, trying to see the reason in Alec's behavior. "If he got tested he would know one way or another. It would mean that he could have a normal, long life, and even a couple of kids, if he wanted to."

"Because ignorance is bliss?" Carlisle offered. "As long as he doesn't get tested, both options are still open, where as soon as he has his results in his hands, there will only be one truth available to him: life or death."

"I'd still want to know, I think," Edward spoke, unable to imagine living in limbo for so long.

"I think I would too," Carlisle answered, "but who's to say what any of us do if we were ever in his shoes? It's always easy to talk when you don't face the challenges they do." He waited for Edward to react before he continued. "Anyway, from what I've heard, relations with his wife have been strained as well ever since James decided to live out the rest of his days on the other end of the country and, from what his daughter told me on the phone, I gathered that she, too, hasn't been in the best of health either so she'd probably be unable to fly out even if she wanted to."

"What a family!" Edward sighed, for once feeling like his messed up family wasn't that bad after all. It was a fleeting thought, though, as he immediately remembered all the very sad and colorful events which shaped his family.

"I'd say!" Carlisle chuckled. "Anyway, she will be arriving in Forks late tomorrow night, which I thought you may want to know considering your…erm…nocturnal visits with Isabella."

Edward chuckled at Carlisle's discomfort, though underneath his humor raged a deep concern for Isabella as well as for himself. "What do you make of her?" He wanted to know what Bella and he were up against; the change in the situation creating all sorts of insecurities where he preferred fact and safety.

And Isabella.

"It's hard to say, really," Carlisle mused. "She seemed nice enough on the phone."

Edward hummed, not at all satisfied by his brother-in-law's reply. "Does Bella know she's coming?"

"Bella?" Carlisle seemed genuinely surprised by Edward's usage of a nickname for Isabella, a slight twinkle of something appearing in his eyes when Edward shrugged, trying to hide his faint blush by studying the cuffs of his almost pristine Oxford. "She knows. I informed her of the fact that she would be entertaining a visitor as soon as I'd checked in with James. She seemed about as enthusiastic about it as you are, though I guess given the state her uncle's in, it's not altogether surprising."

He nodded, his mind already running a mile a minute trying to come up with possible scenarios for the future. All he knew was that, no matter what the outcome would be, or what kind of person this Jane might turn out to be, the bubble he and his Bella had created around their stolen moments would be burst.

Their Eden would be invaded by an unknown and unwanted stranger.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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_**This chapter was written ahead of last week's shocking news and it contains a reference to a certain fairy tale that has now become tainted. I decided not to change it in the wake of last week's events because it is a reference I rather liked and that fits the story but most of all because I am not prepared to let the actions of one individual spoil my love of fairytales or interfere with my writing. **_

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** 28. **

_**The old man.**_

"Talk to me, Isabella, dammit!" Edward yelled into the receiver, pushing the 'end' button as soon as he was done and throwing his phone back onto the bed. "Fuck!"

Remorse started to creep in as soon as he saw the small electronic device land on his duvet, making him reach out for the blasted thing once again and dialing the first number on his speed dial. "Sorry, angel." He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I know I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, especially with everything you must be going through right now, but I'm going kind of crazy here. Call me as soon as you can, okay? I'm worried sick about you. Love you."

He felt so powerless waiting for her to contact him; his unsettling worry and fear over her wellbeing growing with each day that passed without her sweet voice reassuring him that everything was alright.

After four days of nothing, he was starting to lose hope.

Not in her, though. He knew she loved him more than enough to make it through the worst of tribulations. It James and Jane he didn't trust.

All he had to go on were the updates Carlisle gave him after his daily house calls to the Harrison's but with Isabella being constantly in the company of others, he hadn't been able to find out anything apart from the fact that she was still alive and determined to see this through to the end.

James' end.

"Still nothing?" His sister smiled sadly as she entered his room with a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had settled more and more into his bones as the days flew by, focusing his eyes instead on the huge stack of shirts, pants and boxers in her arms. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know." She shrugged, carefully placing the stack of neatly folded laundry on the bed, her hands meticulously making sure that it didn't topple over and make all of her work redundant. "I felt like keeping busy."

"How is she?" He inclined his head towards the door, letting her know which 'she' he was talking about.

"Still the same," Esme answered with a worried voice. "You know? There are moments when I almost wish she was back to her old annoying self. Hell, I wouldn't even mind if she yelled at me as long as it meant that some of her spirit would return."

In the weeks since Rosalie's return from the hospital, some color and strength had finally started to seep back into her face but, underneath that brittle layer of hope, she was still that same quiet, devastated girl who walked around the house like a ghost; her hair tangled and unkempt and her sweats a far cry from the expensive designer clothes she'd worn before it happened.

She was making an effort, though, trying to engage with her family again, especially now that her mother had gone back to California to prepare her house for Rosalie's impending move. Instead of sitting up in her room all day, staring out in front of her with empty eyes, she'd sit with them in the living room, curled up into a ball and only speaking the bare minimum of words. It was progress, though, but everyone could see how forced her effort was.

"She needs time, I guess," Edward offered, not wanting his sister to become too lost in her worries. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for a deeply compassionate and caring woman like Esme, to watch her stepdaughter suffer, all the while knowing there was nothing she could do but make the house a safe and comforting environment for the girl. "Has she made any progress in picking out a therapist?"

Esme shook her head. "She's still in doubt." A heavy sigh left her chest as she sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, her eyes on the clasped hands in her lap. "I think that deep down, Rose knows she can't make it through this without the help of others but I don't think she's quite ready to open up yet." Her lips forced into a small, rueful smile as she looked up. "She reminds me of someone I know."

"And who might that be?" Edward chuckled, taking a seat next to his sister as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling Esme into a hug of the kind that he'd only been on the receiving end of until then. It felt good to be the one offering comfort for a change. "Seriously, sis, you're doing a great job of being there for her. There's nothing more you can do."

"I know, Ned," she smirked, gratefully leaning into his hold, "but knowing and accepting are two completely different things."

"And you've always been stubborn as hell!" He chuckled pressing a kiss onto her caramel hair.

"Like you haven't!" Esme huffed, taking another deep breath in and out before she turned towards her brother. "Any news?"

He shook his head, his lips pressed together in a hard line. "Do you know if Carlisle already went up there today?" With him working the night shift and Carlisle's administrative duties keeping him at his hospital desk throughout the day, he hadn't seen much of his brother-in-law over the past couple of days.

"I think so," Esme mused, her forehead furrowing into think lines. "He said something about going over before work to check on them. He went over there late last night as well, when you were still at work. I think he wants to make sure James is as comfortable as he can be …"

"Now that the old man's going to meet his maker?" Edward offered, that same conflicted emotion of feeling sorry for the man, as well as glad to be rid of him, settling in again. "Has he told you anything?"

"No," Esme was quick to answer, before adding pointedly, "and I don't make it my business to ask. You know I've got your back in all of this, Ned, but I'm not going to be your spy or your gopher. If you want the scoop on what my husband is doing, then I suggest you'd better get your ass over to the hospital and ask him."

He did just that, figuring with his shift starting in a couple of hours he might as well head over to the hospital early to catch up on some paperwork. If he hadn't been feeling so miserable he might have seen the irony of how his current predicament meant that he was, for once, almost completely caught up at work.

The red light outside of Carlisle's office was on when he came in, signaling the man was currently either in a meeting or on a conference call but, as Edward set to work, retreating into one of the empty patient rooms to settle himself on a bed updating his charts in as much peace and quiet as a man could get in a country hospital, he soon found a familiar shadow looming over him.

"I think I heard Maggie talking earlier about the way you've been putting all of them to shame with your dedication for the past couple of days," the older man chuckled, hopping onto a bed next to the one Edward was perched on.

Edward shrugged, feeling his anxiety creeping up on him again now that he was forced to face it. "I've had a lot of time on my hands." He wanted to jump in and ask him about Isabella more than anything but he didn't want to seem too obsessed or stalkerish.

Fortunately for him, Carlisle sensed just what kind of predicament his younger colleague found himself in and threw the door wide open to discuss the current situation within the Harrison household. "I went in to check on James Harrison earlier today."

"Oh?" Edward reacted, still feigning only a professional interest even though he himself was wondering why he even bothered. "How did he look?"

"Bad." Carlisle sighed, his compassionate nature intensely empathizing with his dying patient. "I don't think James will live to see the end of this week…maybe not even past tonight."

"How are his hallucinations?" Even though he wanted to know how Isabella was doing, Edward couldn't help himself, his professional interest in the case needing to be sated as much as his personal interest did.

"He's no longer lucid," Carlisle answered, "but he's not violent or psychotic either. He's just slowly drifting away from this world, which is as good as anyone might have hoped for."

Edward nodded, recalling articles that described either way of FFI-patients meeting their deaths; the violent ones where hallucinating patients killed themselves or even harmed their loved ones in a haze of distorted reality and those who just slowly, but surely, slipped away peacefully. He knew he would have preferred the latter, even if the road leading up to it was more prolonged and painful than the former usually was.

With his professional hunger satisfied, there was no holding himself back any longer, though. "How is Isabella handling all of it?" He moistened his dry lips, feeling incredibly nervous all of a sudden as he waited for Carlisle to answer his question.

He took his time, though, weighing his words as he debated how to explain the situation he had happened upon in a way that would not have Edward charging in like a mad bull and making it even worse. "She is as well as anyone in her situation could be," he finally spoke, his words awfully similar to those uttered when he'd left a frantic and bruised Isabella behind on the morning after James had discovered her betrayal.

Edward wasn't having any of his boss' evasions this time, though. "Don't bullshit me," he growled, his eyes meaning business as they forced Carlisle to meet them. "Tell me how she's doing or I'm going over there to see for myself."

"She barely holding on," Carlisle reluctantly admitted skating on the thin ice between wanting to let the anxious, lovesick man in front of him know what was going on and keeping his promise to Isabella not to say anything that would lead to Edward barging in. It was a foolish promise and he'd regretted it as soon as he'd made it but over the past days, he'd seen over and over again in the young girl's eyes how determined she was to bear her burden alone.

"Jane is there to stand by her father in his final hours but I don't think she's any help where it comes to Isabella." He sighed, remembering how worn and pale the poor girl had looked and how frantic her eyes had shot from Jane to him as she tried to get Carlisle alone for long enough to pass on a message. She was scared, sleep-deprived and near her wits end and, if he hadn't known for sure by then that there was no blood connection between her and his patient, he might have suspected she was in the beginning stages of FFI as well.

"She still didn't want to leave with me, though, not even when I promised I'd take care of her regardless of how your future together panned out," Carlisle added quietly.

Edward had to take a deep breath to keep his emotions under control, his frustration with the situation and Isabella's persistent stubbornness reaching a new height now that he could tell from Carlisle's words – and more clearly from the ones he wasn't speaking – how much worse Isabella's life had become during the few days they hadn't been in touch. "Did she say anything else to you?"

"She's sorry she wasn't able to contact you before but with everything happening at the house and the addition of Jane, she hadn't dared to get to her phone." Carlisle, who hadn't been privy to the sneaky introduction of modern technology into the Harrison's home that was most certainly wholly unwanted by the master of the house, gave him a pointed look. "She told me to tell you she loved you and that, whatever happens, she'll see you soon. Isabella also asked me to remind you not to go up to the house or the cabin, though, for fear of being found out. She'll call you or get a message out to you when she can."

_We'll see each other soon_. Edward closed his eyes, savoring the words as Carlisle quietly took his leave again after promising he would check in with the Harrisons as soon as he could.

His relief was short-lived, though. After another tedious shift which had him working eighteen hours straight because Banner had called in sick, and even longer of not hearing from his girl, his restless sleep was crudely disturbed when the lights in his blacked out room suddenly went on and he found himself blinking at the blurry shape of his brother-in-law, standing in the doorway with a look on his face that made him vault up immediately.

"I've been agonizing over whether or not to wake you up ever since I got back," Carlisle spoke, "but I finally decided I couldn't keep this from you any longer-"

"What's going on?" Edward demanded, his voice still gravelly with sleep as a mortal dread held his heart in a vice-like grip. The tone of Carlisle's voice was enough to make him panic like he'd only done once before in his life.

"What's wrong, Carlisle? Is it Isabella?" His mind immediately went back to his last attempt at calling her, this time not reaching its frustrating end with the automated voicemail message telling him Isabella could not answer the phone at that moment but with his attempt being terminated after only two unanswered rings. At the time, his sleep-fogged brain hadn't made much of it but now…

"She's unharmed," Carlisle was quick to respond, though it didn't escape Edward's notice how he didn't say she was alright, "but after the morning I've just had I can't help but worry about both of them."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Edward growled, his hands tearing at the roots of his hair as he tried to work through his frustration. "Sorry…I didn't mean to cuss at you."

"It's alright, Edward," Carlisle shrugged. "I probably would've done the same if I was in your shoes."

Edward sighed, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, impatient to find out what the hell was going on. "I just got back from checking in on James and to say it was a frustrating visit…" He shook his head, chuckling wryly. "Yeah, that would be the understatement of the century."

"He's taken a turn for the worse?" Edward guessed, wishing Carlisle would just tell him how Isabella was.

"I'm afraid that's not possible anymore in the state he's in," Carlisle answered gravely, "and he's been like this for longer than I can bear to see. It's his daughter that's causing trouble at the moment." His eyes narrowed as he thought back on his morning. "I think she's up to something and poor Isabella has been suffering the brunt of her hatefulness."

"What do you think she's up to?" Edward asked, immediately thinking about Isabella's agreement, the sole reason she'd stuck it out for as long as she had. What had that bitch been doing to his Isabella?

"I have no idea," Carlisle admitted, "but she seems to be very eager to get her hands on her father's estate; so eager, in fact, that she barely even allowed me to treat him."

"What?" For a moment, genuine professional outrage took over, his own mind taking Edward back to similar cases in his own past where family members or hovering friends had made it almost impossible for him to treat his patients.

"She somehow got it into her head that everyone out here is trying to steal her father's money and the unpublished manuscript -and the potential fortune to be earned from it- as soon as he's taken his final breath and is willing to fight to the death to keep that from happening." Again, Carlisle shook his head in disbelief. "I'm beginning to think she doesn't even care about her father."

"But if she suspects Isabella…" Edward thought out loud.

"Then why is the poor girl still there?" Carlisle finished his thought. "I imagine that Jane doesn't care much for nursing her father through his final hours on earth, especially now that James is no longer able to leave his bed. The vile woman has Isabella sitting by his side day and night while she hovers over her like a hawk, trying to catch her stealing the Harrison's out of their inheritance."

"But she's earned her share!" Edward growled, no longer able to sit quietly, he jumped up from the bed and started to pace like a caged animal. "She's written at least half of his fucking book herself. She has an agreement with him, in _writing_."

"I'm afraid Jane is already looking for loopholes, Edward," Carlisle sighed, hating to be the bearer of so much bad news. "But even as I tried to persuade Isabella to admit defeat and leave with me, she wouldn't budge. I…" He let out another deep sigh as he decided to finally tell Edward the whole truth. "I know I should have told you before but I didn't want to have you so worried you'd do something rash that would only make matters worse and, on top of that, Isabella made me promise not to tell you, Edward, you have to believe me. I really _wanted_ to tell you. I'm genuinely scared for her, Edward. She seemed almost delirious with fatigue and stress but instead of helping her out, Jane seems determined to push her over the edge."

"That's it," Edward growled. "I'm calling her." His phone was in his hands not even a second later, his anxiety rising with each unanswered ring until, after three monotonous beeps the one thing he had been hoping for several days finally happened. She'd picked up.

"Bella?" He sighed with relief, his eyes meeting a similar response as they locked with Carlisle's. "Fuck, angel, I'm so happy to finally be able to hear your voice."

"Then I'm afraid I have to disappoint you," a shrill, venomous voice that was about as far removed from Bella's answered. "Miss Swan is unable to answer the phone right now, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean she's unable to answer the phone right now?" he barked, his hand closing so tightly around his cell phone that he was close to breaking the thing in half. "I know she's in that house with you. Just put her on, dammit!"

"If you would have let me finish before you so rudely cussed at me I could have told you that Miss Swan is no longer on the premises," Jane replied, in a voice that almost made him wonder whether or not she was enjoying this game of power. It fucking seemed like it. "In fact, I asked her to remove herself from my father's land half an hour ago, shortly after he passed away. I have no idea where she is right now and, frankly, I don't even care. Goodbye."

Before Edward had time to speak, the dial tone sounded in his ear, signaling that Jane had ended the call. "That fucking bitch!" he yelled, pulling off his pajama pants, grabbing the nearest items of clothing he could reach from a chair nearby, which happened to be the scrubs he'd worn the day before, and forcing his long limbs into them as he fumed with rage.

"What happened," Carlisle demanded. "James, is he-"

"James is dead," Edward growled, dissatisfied with the slowness of finding shoes and socks. "And Jane threw Bella out of the house the minute he drew his last breath." Finally he succeeded in getting enough clothing on his body to go out in the cold and rainy night, his hands pawing for his car keys as he turned around to face his brother-in-law. "I can't talk to you any longer. I _have_ to find her, Carlisle."

"Of course you do," Carlisle nodded, in his mind already making his own arrangements. "Why don't you go up ahead and drive up to the Harrison's to see if you can find her somewhere along the forest road while I make a few calls around town?"

Edward was already out of the room by the time Carlisle had finished his sentence, not stopping to answer Esme's question as he tore through the house and pulled out of the driveway with screeching tires, not caring about anything but finding her.

His Isabella.

He kept his eyes on the tree line as he zoomed up the mountain but no matter how hard he looked, there was no sight or sign of her anywhere, his heart pounding in his throat as Carlisle's words kept on repeating over and over again in his head.

_She seemed almost delirious._

_Jane seems determined to push her over the edge._

Next thing he knew his fists were pounding against a door he'd never thought he'd enter through again, his mind not quite determined on whether he was there to kill or to find out something – anything – about what Bella's final hours inside that house had been like.

Where could she be?

"Doctor Masen, I assume?" The woman answering the door had the coldest of blue eyes, just like her father but, unlike James', hers only held a look of pure evil and venom as they gazed at him. "I thought I made it pretty clear that you had no reason to bother coming over here."

"Where did she go?" he snarled, trying to remember why it was wrong to hit a woman. Was she even a woman? Or a living human being for that matter?

"How am I supposed to know?" She barked out a vicious laugh, her body blocking the entrance to the house. "For all I care she could have gone out into the forest to live with the seven dwarfs. She seemed like the Snow White kind of girl."

The epiphany her words caused was the only thing keeping him from lashing out and breaking his promise to never hit a woman. _The meadow, of course!_ Edward groaned, feeling the urge to kick himself for being so stupid. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

He was in his car as soon as his legs could carry him across the driveway, Jane already long gone from the doorway as he pulled out and raced back down the road to where he knew a shortcut to the meadow split from the main road.

In his hurry to get to her, he hadn't factored in the effects the incessant rain would have had on the small dirt road, though, his Volvo getting stuck in the mud when he wasn't even a mile in.

"Fuck! Dammit!" Edward growled, his hands slamming the steering wheel as the tires spun, mud splashing on either side of the car as it got further stuck with every attempt of trying to get it free. "Not now. Not fucking now!"

His heart was racing, his shoulders tensing at the thought of what might happen if he arrived too late. _No, he couldn't think of that. She wouldn't….she wouldn't do that. Not to him. Not to herself. Still…_

There was part of him that couldn't be sure, the part of him that knew what kind of state his girl had to be in, the part of him that felt her pain. For years, the old man had been all she knew and now he was gone…just like the life she had made for herself.

It was that part which made him yank open the door and jump out of his borrowed four-wheel car, his feet sloshing as they landed into the same puddle that had stopped his progress.

He didn't even notice it, as his whole being focused on finding his way through the woods as he took off in a desperate sprint; wet leaves and branches tearing at his clothes and his pace severely encumbered by the slippery surface. Edward's breath was leaving his lungs in heavy pants of condensed air as he got closer to his destination.

On any other day, Edward would have reveled in the way the wind hollered around the trees and pulled at the ends of his hair, the extra bounce in the leafy forest floor caused never-ending rain making his feet bounce along the track. But on this day the exhilaration he usually felt when running along those well-known paths were completely eaten away by worry.

He'd known it the minute he picked up the phone and heard, not Bella's sweet voice but the cold, distant shrill of the daughter announcing the demise of her father. He'd known it, and yet, he'd come all the way to the forest house, confirming what in his heart he already knew: she'd vanished.

And there was only one place she could have gone; the one special place that had been the setting of many a nightly meeting between the two of them. Though on those occasions, his heart had been filled with anticipation, lust and an all-consuming love as he sprinted towards her.

Now, there was only fear; a blind, panic that pushed him forward even when his lungs burned and his heart raced out of control. Edward's mind barely registering when a few prickly braches tore gashes into his skin and the thin fabric of his almost soaked through scrubs.

He _had_ to get to her. He _had_ to get to the meadow.

And then he was there, his eyes scanning the clearing for signs of life until he found his girl, her red dress standing out against the twilit forest as she sat, curled up into a ball, rocking her body as her anguished sobs rang through the silence.

"Bella!" he called, his feet taking off again as he jumped over fallen tree trunks in his desperate need to get to her. He only stopped when he had her safely in his arms, her body trembling with cold and emotion as she hung against him like a ragdoll, the lifelessness of this once so strong and vibrant woman shattering his heart. "Fuck, baby, I'm so glad I've found you!"

He pulled away after some time had passed, his arms holding her upright as he looked at her, tenderly swiping the tears from her cheek. "Are you okay? What happened? Talk to me, baby, _please_."

"I…I had to get away," Bella muttered, her voice shaking as bad as her body as her hands moved to wrap themselves around Edward's strong chest in a marmoset hold. "I couldn't stay there…not with him lying there…and _her_…"

"I know," Edward spoke into her hair, his shoulders dropping with relief at having found her safe and sound.

"He's dead, Edward." Finally she lifted her head, her brown eyes distraught as they found his, her body shaking more violently with every gasp of air she drew in. "He's dead and…oh my God, what am I going to do?"

"Listen to me, Bella," Edward spoke, her head between his hands as he forced her to look at him, forced her to _see_. "You're free now. His hold on you…it's ended. You can go anywhere you want." It hurt to speak those words, though not because he begrudged her the freedom that had now finally come, after years of living in captivity. Literally. It was just that his heart broke at even the thought of her leaving him, of a world without her in it. It made his voice hoarse with fear when he spoke, though he did his best to hide it from her, not wanting her to feel obligated to stay with him if she didn't want to.

She _shouldn't_ want to. There was a whole world out there for her to explore and a life to finally be lived doing what she wanted instead of having someone dictate it. She shouldn't want to tie herself down, especially not with a man who still remained half-broken.

"But I-" She bit her lip, her face still betraying the violence of her emotions. "I'm scared. I-I'm scared of losing you. You are all I have right now in the entire world and I…I-I don't want to lose you. It…it would kill me."

"I've got you, sweetheart," he breathed, her skin cool as his lips made contact with it. His shoulders fell with relief as he crushed her slender frame to his, knowing that he felt exactly the same as her. They were joined now, their hold on each other permanent and unbreakable. "I won't let go."

As he spoke the words he knew the truth in them, as he realized he had known all along. He had fought a long and hard battle for her within himself, his family, his boss and even with her. Now that he had her at last and she was finally free, he was never letting her go.

Finally she relaxed, her body slumping forward as she all but fell into his hold, sleep deprivation and anxiety making her unable to remain on her own two feet any long.

"Come on, angel," he muttered, swooping her up in his arms. "Let's get you home."

It felt so good to say those words and know that James or Jane could never lay a finger on her again; to be able to hold her in his arms, no matter how dire the circumstances were at the moment, and know that he didn't have to let go again.

He could keep her.

Keep her safe.

Keep her happy.

Keep her by his side where she belonged.

Her teeth clattered as the rain kept on pouring down on them, his arms cradling her as close to his body and what warmth he had as he slogged along the soggy pathway, praying a miracle would get his car unstuck before they both froze to death. "Not much further now, angel." He kissed the top of her head trying to keep the faith as her muffled sobs were the only thing that registered above the sound of rain drops splattering from the trees. "We're almost there."

As they reached the car, though, he was faced with a whole new challenge as his only means of getting out of the forest still seemed stuck. "Isabella, love, can you do something for me?" He squeezed her shoulders, trying to get her attention as he slowly put her back on her feet next to the car.

She finally looked up, acknowledging him for the first time since she'd all but passed out in his arms, her teeth still clattering violently as her tear-shiny eyes made contact with his.

"I need to get the car unstuck but I can't do it alone," he went on, reading her face for signs she'd heard him. "Do you think you can slip behind the wheel while I give it a push?"

It took a few moments before the words had registered with her but then she nodded, her voice so absent it almost made him change his mind. "Yes…I think I can do that."

He made sure the heating was switched up all the way before he gently deposited her in the driver's seat, wishing more than anything there was another way to get them out of this mess than to ask this of the woman who been through so much already that day.

"Okay." He rubbed his hands together as he took his position in front of the car, his hands groaning against the cold metal. He'd already made sure the car was in reverse before he'd headed out again, making her task as light as he could. "Push the gas, angel. Let's get us out of here."

She pushed, the engine revving as the wheels turned, his muscles burning with the strain as he pushed and pushed until finally the car jumped backwards, covering him in a shitload of mud and decaying leaves. He couldn't care less, though, his smile triumphant as he ran back towards her.

"We did it!" He grinned, his elation growing as he noted how she slid over to the passenger seat all on her own, her skin no longer looking bluish and her teeth no longer rattling as fiercely now that she was inside the warm cocoon of the car.

She flashed him a small smile, her cold hand wrapping around his as he closed it around the gear shift. "Take me home?"

They were the words he had been dreaming to hear ever since he'd learned of her situation but, coming from her own lips instead of his warped imagination, they were a hundred times better. His voice was thick with the all-overpowering love he felt for her as he answered her question, lifting her cold, dirty hand to his lips. "Always."

There was so much promised and implied in that single word that they both felt drunk off of it, Isabella even so much so that finally, after days of virtually no sleep and being dead on her feet, she slipped into a calm and blissful sleep almost immediately, the sight of her, so peaceful and beautiful, making his heart throb in his chest.

He almost didn't want to leave the car as he parked in front of the house, Esme already rushing out the minute she spotted her brother's mud-covered car.

"Bella?" he whispered, gently nudging her as he crouched beside the opened passenger door. "Angel, we're here."

She groaned, her eyes fluttering slightly before she settled back into sleep, a chuckling Edward gently prying her from the seat and back into his arms. She felt good there, his eyes closing as he finally allowed himself to feel relieved after days of never ending tension and anxiety.

He'd done it.

He had found her.

She was safe now.

"Is she okay?" Esme's worried voice rang out from somewhere beside him but he couldn't bring himself to look at her, so entranced was he by the sight of his Isabella in his arms.

"She will be," he spoke, his voice hushed so as not to disturbed his sleeping angel, "because I'll be taking care of her from now on."

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_**Thoughts?**_


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!**_

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** 29. **

_**The wake up.**_

He didn't get an ounce of sleep that night, his eyes fixed on the frail figure sleeping in his arms. _She's here. Finally. _

Over the past couple of months Edward had spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to have her there, beside him, in his bed. How it would feel to know she'd never have to go back to that man again and to know that the future they'd both been dreaming of was starting right there and then. And now that she was actually lying beside him; a small tangled mess of fragile and so precious skin and bones covered in a button up of his that was far too big for her.

_So fragile, so broken._

Her face was still so pale he actually leaned in to listen if she was still breathing every now and then to know that she was still there, with him.

He sighed, a wide, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he carefully brushed a lock of thick, brown hair away that was threatening to obscure her face from his view. She was actually there to stay. No more leaving. No more saying goodbye. He got to keep Isabella now, take care of her and make her see the beauty of the world where she had spent so many days looking only at its uglier sides. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. As hard as her life had been, it had been a very sheltered one, away from most of the stuff that made modern living so complicated. She would have to get used to all of that and living with a guy she hardly knew, in a city she'd never set foot in during her whole life, was going to be a tough adjustment for her.

He shook his head, his hands rubbing his eyes in an attempt to keep them open and alert for anything that might endanger Isabella's sleep. Was he doing the right thing in taking her away? He knew he didn't really have another choice. His time in Forks was almost up and St. Mary's had already been in touch to straighten out his rehabilitation program and other administrative shit. With as much money as his family had invested in his career when he'd been all too glad to flush it down the crapper, he knew he was under a heavy obligation to reclaim his position in Chicago again and make their investment worthwhile. If he could ever do such a thing.

Lying back, his body groaning under the strain of having been awake for so long, he knew one thing for sure: he needed help. As much as didn't want to share her, he knew he couldn't do this alone. For starters because he would be working when they got back to Chicago and Bella would need someone to show her around the city and make sure she was as safe and happy as she was going to get. Besides, he imagined she could use a friend as well, to discuss woman's stuff and complain about all his nasty, single man habits like leaving the toilet seat up and his dirty clothes and crap lying all around the place.

But who to ask?

Esme would be more than willing, he knew that for a fact, but what he also knew was that starting a few weeks from then, there would be thousands of miles and a two hour time difference between her and Isabella.

Alice would be more than willing but she was far too young and still in school. Besides, as much as he loved her to bits, he knew his half-sister could be a little much sometimes and he didn't want Isabella to become even more overwhelmed with everything going on around her than she had to be.

Tanya was as close to Isabella in age as anyone he knew so she would probably know the kind of stuff girls like Isabella would like to do and shit but, even to him, it seemed weird to be asking his ex-wife to help out his new girl. To Bella it would be….well, Twilight Zone crazy shit to say the least.

_Carmen_. She'd be more than happy to help and though he cringed to think about all the embarrassing stories about his childhood she'd most definitely share with his girl, he knew almost without a doubt that Bella would feel comfortable with her.

But would she actually let someone help her?

He frowned, realizing that Isabella had never really been the kind of person that let others get close to her easily. And with her past, who'd be surprised by that? She was going to need help adjusting to regular life, though, especially if she was going to enjoy the freedom she'd been craving for so long. They'd have to sort out how to work through shit with school or work or whatever she wanted to do to pass her time during the day, as well as have her set up in Chicago and finding her bearings around the big city.

It scared Edward to even think about Isabella out there, navigating the busy streets downtown and going out there on her own, though, at the same, time the thought of having her there with him filled him with warmth. It meant he would get to share his _life_ with her and watch her grow from the sheltered, abused and unworldly girl to the woman he knew she could become. It felt like a privilege, even in the midst of all the uncertainty concerning her life and the direction it would take.

Whatever was going to happen, though, they'd be together.

James no longer had any kind of hold on them.

The relief he felt was outweighed by the gravity of the situation they now found themselves in. As much as he had grown to hate the man in the past couple of months, Edward couldn't help but feel sorry for the way he passed; mentally and physically crippled after a disease had rid him of every shred of dignity and humanity he had once possessed. It was an end you wouldn't wish on your biggest enemies, let alone a man as formerly brilliant as James Harrison.

At least he was in a better place now, whereas those left behind were burdened with picking up the pieces his demise had shattered all over his remembrance.

There was the novel, of course. The very same novel that had been written almost in its entirety by Isabella, using the raw material James had produced during his rare lucid moments to put together something that could hold its own amongst the brilliant works of literature the man had hitherto produced. What would happen now that the pages they had worked so hard on to complete had fallen into the hands of others?

He feared the worst.

Jane had made it pretty clear the previous day that, as far as she was concerned, whatever agreements or contracts Isabella had with her father would not be honored so it wouldn't surprise him if she denied Isabella had anything to do with the novel in the first place. And, if matters came before a court, she had quite a lot going for her. Bella might have had a sheet of paper containing her agreement with James but it hadn't been witnessed or notarized or gone through any other process that would make it legal. On the contrary, since the date on the document put it well into James' illness, Edward didn't need a legal degree to know that it would never hold up in court.

Then there was the fact that Isabella had never completed any kind of formal education, let alone the kind of studies that would allow a human mind to grow into the expanses needed to complete a work in the tradition of Aro Volturi's other literary feats. Sure, in the months they'd spent together he'd come to know her as an exceptionally bright and sharp-minded woman who would have been more than able to write a Pulitzer prize winning novel but, again, there wasn't any evidence of that eruditeness to stave it.

On the other hand, though, they had James' condition on their side. As easy as it was to prove before a judge that a girl who dropped out of high school before she'd even reached the junior class level would unlikely be able to put the kind of sentences together that one would find in an Aro Volturi novel, it would be just as easy to show the same thing of a man whose mind had been disintegrating for years. Still, he had a feeling Jane would think of something to bypass that though. He'd seen enough of her to know she definitely wasn't above fighting dirty if it meant getting what she wanted.

And there was a hell of a lot of money at stake.

He could only hope that hidden somewhere inside the soggy pile of clothing she'd shed before joining him in bed, she held not only a copy of whatever agreement she and James had put into writing and, but a draft of the novel they'd been working on - preferable with notes added to the pages in her handwriting. He feared it would be all they had because somehow, as much as he lamented James' passing, he didn't trust the man enough to hope that he had kept his word to the woman who had risked everything to take care of him.

His body went into full alert, his arm unconsciously tightening around Isabella's frail body as he heard the scraping sound of the door being opened, the tension only leaving his shoulders when the apologetic face of his sister came into view.

"How is she doing?" Esme whispered, her eyes holding nothing but compassionate worry as they glanced at the small, curled up figure nestled inside her brother's protective hold.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, keeping a keen sense on Bella's body language so as to be sure he wasn't disturbing her sleep. God knew she needed it. "She was a bit restless at first but fell into a deep sleep sometime around three."

"That's good," Esme nodded pensively. "Her sleeping, I mean."

He mimicked her movement. "She was completely worn out."

"I imagine she'll want some fresh clothes when she wakes up," Esme spoke, revealing her reason for disturbing the peace and quiet of the attic rooms her brother called home, as she deposited a small stack of clothes on the chair next to the bed. "I think she's about the same size as me so these should fit her. If she needs anything else just holler."

"Thanks, Es." Edward whispered, breathing out deeply as his eyes briefly fluttered over to Isabella to see if she was still alright.

"Any time, Ned," his sister beamed back. "Do you want me to carry up a tray for you two? It's almost noon and you haven't eaten."

His stomach grumbled as if to answer her question and, with a muffled chuckled and a shake of her head, Esme rose. "I guess I have my answer. Any preferences?"

Edward shook his head, trying to move as little as he could as he settled back against the pillows, his arms and back slightly uncomfortable from being in the same position for so long on end. It was a sacrifice he was more than happy to make, though, considering the outcome of yesterday's frightful hours.

He closed his eyes, his mind reliving some of the frantic moments he'd spent searching for her the day before. A part of him still couldn't believe the outcome...that she was really there, in his arms, and that she would never have to leave again.

Isabella finally woke up some time after Esme had delivered a tray stacked with food to the room, the scent of which probably proving too much even in the worn out state she had to be in after the days behind her.

"Edward?" His name was the first word falling from her lips; gravelly and unsure as she took in the strange surroundings she almost had no recollection of.

His arms tightened around her in reassurance. "I'm here, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet, feminine scent as he reluctantly loosened his hold, giving her back the freedom of movement she would probably need. "Do you remember what happened?"

He could feel her body tense as everything came back and she was assaulted by one painful memory after the next, her eyes squeezed shut as she nodded. "I'll never see him again, will I?"

He sighed, knowing the words he would have to speak would hurt her. It was the last thing he wanted to do but lying to her would be almost as bad. Worse even. "Probably not. That woman…" He spat out the word, his disdain apparent, as he stroked the bare skin of her arm, hoping it would soothe her.

"She knew things…" Isabella mused, her voice shaky with disappointment and disillusion, "things only _he_ could have told her…about the contract and the book."

"Do you think-" He stopped his sentence before finishing it; the pained look on Bella's face making his words falter and die on his lips.

"I cannot believe he would do this to me after everything I did for him," she spoke, swallowing thickly as she fought in vain to keep her tears and her anger from spilling out. "I stayed with him when every bone in my body was yelling at me to go with you and be happy. I felt obligated to him, both for the contract we had and the years we had behind us and so I stayed…and for what?"

Finally, a sob wracked through Isabella, her shoulders slumping as she gave in to the conflicting mix of emotions raging inside of her – grief, anger, disbelief, fear.

Edward reached out, his urge to comfort Isabella so great that her refusal of his arms almost physically hurt, though he should have known she'd want to shoulder the weight of her emotions the way she always did: alone.

"He fucking _used_ me!" she cried, her eyes now alight with rage. "I gave him everything I had and he took it all, and then he laughed in my damn face. And what do I have now?" She shook her head, her lips set in bitterness. "_Nothing_. I'm back to square one again."

"You still have me." He didn't know why her words made him feel so insecure all of a sudden but they did; they made him wonder if all of it – including him – had been worth it in the end or whether she wished she'd never even met James Harrison.

She smiled, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek as her eyes softened through the watery remains of her tears. "As long as I have you," she whispered, not quite finishing the thought before leaning in and capturing his lips with hers in a sweet kiss that told him everything he needed to know to be reassured once again.

She loved him.

She still wanted him now that she was free to pick whomever she wanted.

It was strange, as little time as he'd spent worrying she might not want to be with him once her options were completely open, his relief in the moment was almost palpable.

_I get to keep her, _he thought with a relieved smile.

Her movements became both more determined and bold as she pulled him closer, her lips never leaving his as she squirmed underneath him to align her body perfectly with his as her hands grabbed the t-shirt he'd pulled on after discarding his sopping wet clothes up.

"Bella," he warned, his voice breathless and thick with want as he placed his own hands on top of his to still her movements.

"Let me," she half growled, trying to swat his hands away as her nails scratched his skin in a way that wasn't altogether unpleasant. In fact, it was pretty damn pleasant if you would have asked Edward himself.

"No," he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut to keep his control when his whole being was screaming at him to move forward. "It would be wrong. Right now you're hurt and-"

"Edward, listen to me." She sat up, almost head-butting him in the process, her deep, brown eyes calm and assured as she spoke. "Yesterday my whole life as I knew it fell to pieces and right now you're all I have in this world. I _want_ to belong to you; wholly and completely, so please…" Her voice trailed off in desperation as she bit her lip, her voice barely registering above a whisper as she went on. "Make me yours. I _need_ to belong to someone again."

If there was anything else she wanted to say, it was lost a Edward's lips crushed to hers, muffling all other words in the process as he finally abandoned all remnants of behaving gentlemanly.

"God, I want you," he muttered against her lips as he helped her finally rid him of his shirt, her fingers trembling with impatience as they tried to trace the tiny buttons through the holes as she set about ridding herself of any barriers. "You have no idea how much I fucking want you."

"I think I might," she replied breathlessly, her lips finding his again as her hands, abandoning their previous task, lodged in his hair, his hands already working on the drawstrings of his pajama pants as he tried to worm his way out of the rest of his clothes.

"What do you think kept me going all those long, lonely nights in James' house except for the thought of what it would be like…what _this_ would be like?"

"You thought of me, then, you dirty girl?" he chuckled, tracing the tip of his nose down from her jaw to her collarbone as he nudged the open sides of his button-up away from her shoulders, finally baring her nearly naked body to his eyes. _Perfection_. Even though he'd seen it before, he still held his breath as his eyes hungrily drank her in.

"Yes," she panted, squirming as his words started to take effect. "I thought of you…doing this to me."

"Only this?" he questioned, looking up at her with smoldering green eyes as the backs of his fingers traced a path from her collar bone, down to the valley between her perfect round breasts to her belly button, testing the waters but never going further than what he deemed her ready for_. Easy, Edward, you have all the time in the world. _

She swallowed thickly. "No."

He had to admit that it was fun testing her, seeing how far she would go; fun and a great way to stifle his nerves, for they were running amuck inside of him, questioning every move he made and every kiss he planted on her porcelain skin. "Then what else do you think of?"

She drew in a shaky breath, a muffled moan leaving her mouth as she buried her face in the crook of his neck as his pelvis moved against hers, naked skin separated only by two thin layers of clothing. "I think about you…touching me."

"Touching you, eh?" Edward grinned, relishing in her ticklishness as he slowly moved his hands up her ribcage. "Where did I touch you?"

"My br- _oh_,_ my God_!" her words were cut off when he touched her breasts before she could finish her description, the tips of his fingers circling around the pebbled peaks before he cupped her tits in his hands, the movements of his pelvis becoming more harsh and determined now that they were coming closer and closer to their goal.

"Like this?" He was starting to get a little cocky, his pleasure at seeing her so wild and free even greater than that coming from the movements of his body. It did things to him; unlocked pleasures he'd never even imagined knowing, to share this with a woman he loved so deeply and absolutely.

_And to know that he was her first. _

"Or did you imagine I'd put my mouth on you as well?"

His movements were meant to drive her crazy but still he couldn't stop the low groan from escaping his mouth as he sucked one of her nipples in between his lips, the hard peak contrasting to the soft skin around it as her body writhed beneath him. _Fuck! Her taste…so good. _

Once again her boldness amazed him as she pulled his lips up to hers again by his hair, the pain a pleasure that only fired him up that much more as they kissed until they were both completely out of breath, her swollen lips and heaving, naked chest as she lay back making her look like a siren in the faint light shining through the curtains.

"You're beautiful," he muttered, her body breaking out in goose bumps as he raked his eyes over it. "Fuck, I still can't believe you're mine."

"Then make it so," she answered, her voice lowered with lust as she beckoned him back to her. "I'm ready."

_Not yet. But soon._ He grinned, reminding himself to take it easy and make sure she was well and truly ready before he'd make love to her, his hands sneaking slowly down, below the elastic of her underwear and even further until it connected with her slick skin. He groaned loudly, his fingers sinking into her yielding flesh as he relished in her wet warmth, his lips kissing a hot trail from her lips to her tits as her involuntary noises coaxed him on, telling him about her likes and pleasures as he brought her to completion, his pride soaring as she fell apart under his hands.

"Is this what you dreamed about?" he chuckled, kissing a trail back up to her lips as he quickly discarded himself of his boxer briefs. "Or were there other things you imagined me doing to you?"

"I think you know," she replied in a shaky voice, her eyes still shining brightly from the pleasure he'd brought to her as she cradled his face and kissed him deeply. "Now stop teasing and make love to me!"

"It's going to hurt, angel," he spoke, all traces of lightheartedness gone as he took himself in one hand, the other caressing the soft skin of her cheek, "but I'll try to make it as good for you as I can."

She bit her lip, her eyes locked with his as she removed her underwear, nodding as tension set into her body though her face was determined. "Okay…do it. I'm ready."

"Just try to relax," he urged, kissing her lips as he fumbled around in his bedside table for a condom he knew had to be in there somewhere, her eyes transfixed on his penis as he tore the foil wrapper open with his teeth and rolled the rubber down his length before aligning his tip with her opening, coating it in her wetness before he pushed in the tip, his hands trembling from the restrain of holding back and not slamming into her like he desperately wanted to.

"I love you," Edward's lips fluttered against her neck.

"I love you, too," she whispered, her eyes widening as he slowly pushed forward, her nails digging into his shoulders as they grabbed hold of them, sharing the pain she must have been feeling with him in a way so intimate he felt it in every cell of his body. They were really one now. "So fucking much," she breathed into his chest.

He could feel the resistance of her body at first, a pained gasp piercing the air as he pushed through her barrier. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice strained as he hovered above her, keeping his weight supported by his arms as he kissed her lips, her eyelids, her cheeks as he waited until she relaxed again.

"It's okay," she finally breathed. "Keep going."

_Oh God. _He had to command every bit of self-control he had left to keep himself together as he sank deeper and deeper into her, the warmth and tightness with which her body welcomed his unparalleled to anything he'd ever experienced. She was made for him.

Only him.

_Fuck_! He remembered just in time how new she was to all of this, seeking permission in her eyes before he started moving, slowly and constantly mindful of the directions her body offered and the sounds she'd made as he loved her. It felt so good. She felt so good, so much better than it had ever been for him, a low moan grumbling in his chest as he felt her around him, his mind completely overwhelmed with the fulfillment of what most of his dreams had been about for the past few months.

_Her_. It had always been her. It was _always_ going to be her.

"Shit, baby, you feel so good."

Her answering whimper as her fingers dug into his skin only fueled his fire, her movements becoming more certain as she adjusted to the sensations and the newness, her eyes shut and her teeth clenching around her bottom lip in pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in even deeper and closer. _So, so good._

"I need you to let go, angel," he growled, his mind on the brink of losing control.

_But not before her._

Kissing every bit of skin he could reach, his hand snuck in between their bodies, rubbing her clit as he sought to give her so much pleasure after the pain until, finally, she screamed out, her eyes wide and her walls clamping violently around him as he followed only seconds after her, calling out her name.

"I love you," he whispered, pushing sweaty stands of hair out of her face as he slowly caught his breath again, his need to kiss and be close to her even greater now that they had been as connected as and any two people could ever get. "I will _never_ stop loving you."

"I'll love you forever, too, Edward," she smiled, wrapping her arms around him as he rested his head on her naked breasts, listening to the sounds of her heartbeat slowly coming down again as they relished the enormity of what had just happened.

But as always, the outside world had a habit of intervening; bursting the perfect bubble they'd drawn up around them as a car door slammed close by, alerting them to the fact that all around them people were living their lives oblivious to the pure and perfect love that had just been shared between two people.

"Wow!" Bella had to laugh at her own husky assessment of what had just come to pass. "That was…"

"Amazing?" Edward offered, kissing her bare shoulder.

"Yeah," she nodded, her voice still breathless. "Is it always like that?"

"It'll get even better," he assured her, enveloping their cooling bodies in the soft fabric of the sheets. "But no, it's never been like that for me either." If he'd thought he'd had a very satisfying sex life before, this – Bella – had just blown it all out of the water. Everything with her seemed to be more consuming and intense.

"No?" Isabella looked genuinely befuddled by this, her breast exposed to his eager eyes as she lifted herself up by her arms to look at him.

He somehow managed to tear himself away from the almost mesmerizing sight, shaking his head. "I never felt quite like this but, then again, I'd never felt about the woman I was with the way I feel for you."

She blushed, her face obscured as her hair fell in front of it. "So you'd want to do it again?"

"Absolutely!" He grinned, his hand taking this as their cue to start re-exploring her naked flesh again. "But right now I imagine my sister will be very anxious to know you're awake and doing well."

"Doing very well!" she chuckled, though her smile didn't entirely reach her eyes as, no doubt, her mind was brought back to her reason for being in the Cullen home. "Do you think it will be okay if I took a shower first?"

Edward only had to take one look at her sex-mussed hair, sparkling eyes and skin sticky with the sweat of their lovemaking to know that a shower would definitely be required – for both of them – before he sent her out there to meet his crazy family.

"I think she'd be okay with that," he nodded, his lips pulling into a lopsided smirk as he went on, "In fact, I think if you'd ask her, she'd tell you that I smelled pretty grimy as well."

"So what are you saying?" Isabella cocked her head as she rolled off him, clutching the bed sheet to her chest, her nose scrunching adorably as he disposed of the used condom. "You want to take a shower too? With me?" It seemed like the thought of two people taking a shower together had never before occurred to her and Edward had to work hard to keep himself from smiling at her adorable innocence. It reminded him once more of just how sheltered she'd lived until then.

"It would be the most efficient approach, yes," he replied, forcing his voice to be all business and matter-of-fact. "After all, there's no use wasting the earth's resources, and my sister's time, by showering separately."

Her eyes narrowed playfully as she took his measure, the coyness with which she bit her lip making his body soar with a need to be inside her again. "And this has nothing to do with you wanting to look at my boobs some more?"

Her cheeks were as red as a fire engine but Edward still had to admire her courage for blurting out a thing like that. She had him pegged, though he wasn't about to admit it. Nope, he enjoyed their game far too much to end it. "Of course not."

"Right," she snorted, exposing his naked form as she got up from the bed and navigated through the room to the open bathroom door.

She squealed as he all but vaulted off the bed and chased after her, her feet nearly losing their balance on the tiled floor as his body collided with hers, his hand quickly starting the water as he kissed the hell out of her while around them the room slowly filled with steam.

It was no surprise that they arrived downstairs a little later than anticipated and in a state no less flustered than when they had left their bed, Esme shaking her head at her brother as she grinned knowingly. "And here I was thinking you were both exhausted!" she playfully scolded, swatting her brother with a dishrag as he passed her. "It seems to me like you have plenty of energy."

Isabella blushed furiously, hiding her face in Edward's shoulder as she drew her chair so close to his she was almost sitting on his lap. Esme was quick to repent, picking up on the younger woman's discomfort and realizing that playful teasing wasn't something that had likely been a part of Isabella's life.

"It's all good, though," Esme added, trying to lighten the mood again. "I don't think I've seen my precious, little Neddy quite as happy since Santa brought him his first train set."

"Neddy?" Isabella finally looked up again, her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked from Esme to Edward.

"Oh, yes!" Esme squealed, delighted to pass on her so ill-liked nickname. "Edward hates being called 'Eddie', so, since I personally think 'Edward' is a ridiculous name for anyone who didn't shake hands with Jane Austen, I started calling him 'Ned' or 'Neddy'."

"Even though you know I hate those two just as much!" Edward groaned, glaring daggers at his sister.

"Hmm," Isabella mused, the devious lights twinkling in her eyes made Edward intensely happy after seeing those big eyes so dull and lifeless the day before. "I think I'm going to have to remember that for when you do something to piss me off."

"Ooh! I like her!" Esme squealed, holding up the coffee pot to see if there were any takers. "I think Isabella is just who you need to keep that awful surgeon's God complex at bay!"

"Bella," Isabella corrected her, both siblings looking up at the solemn, calm statement. "I think I'd like to be called 'Bella' from now on."

He squeezed her hand, his eyes finding hers as a silent conversation passed between them. It was the transformation from her old life – her Isabella life – into the new one, that was voiced in that one word; the transformation in _their_ new life.

"See!" Esme grinned triumphantly, putting steaming cups of coffee in front of them. "No one uses their full name anymore."

"Except for me," Edward deadpanned, groaning with delight as he took a big gulp from his cup. "Whatever you say, or even, whichever ridiculous abbreviation of my name you come up with next, I'll always prefer 'Edward'."

"And on that thought, I think it's time for me to leave for work," Esme snorted, shaking her head as she grabbed her stuff and said goodbye as she took off to Port Angeles for a bedroom remodeling job.

Some of the things she'd said, though, got Edward thinking about the future; both his future and the one he'd just embarked on with Isabella. What did she want from life? He knew his future was pretty much set in stone when it came to the next few years. He had to go back to Chicago and prove he was worth the money invested in his career and the risk St. Mary's had taken in keeping him on even when he'd committed one of the worst crimes in the medical field.

But would she want the same?

Would she want to move to Chicago with him and live the lonely life of a doctor's wife? Would she even want to marry to him?

"My, you've gotten serious all of a sudden!" Bella chuckled, noting the sudden shift in his mood. Her fingers danced over the back of his hand. "What's on your mind?"

"You," he admitted, turning his face to look at her. "Our future."

Her brows furrowed as she gave him a puzzled look, trying to find the meaning behind his words. "What about it?" she asked slowly.

"I'm due back in Chicago in two weeks," he went on.

"I know that." She nodded. "You told me."

"I know." He sighed running a hand through his hair. "But I never stopped to think about what you wanted; if you even wanted to come with me."

"Of course, I do." The creases in her forehead grew, reminding him that he still wasn't making sense to her.

"You're free now," he explained. "You could go anywhere you wanted: to New York, Texas – hell, you could even go to Paris if you wanted."

"But I know _you'll_ be in Chicago," she answered, her face relaxing as she finally caught on. "So that's the only place I'll ever want to be. Where my heart is."

"I don't think you understand," he argued, shaking his head vehemently as he spoke the words that sliced though his heart like razorblades; the words that might chase her away. "I'm a doctor. I work long hours and when I'm home, I'll be too tired to do anything but sleep and eat, well at least until I've earned some seniority and get better hours while I order around other people. You'll be alone in a strange city, with only my family to help you find your way – and I have to warn you… they're crazy, every damn one of them."

"I'm sure I'll find someone sane enough to keep me entertained," Bella chuckled, taking his hand in her smaller one, her thumb rubbing circles into the palm of his hand, "and as long as I know you'll be coming home to me at some point, I'll be perfectly happy."

"Are you sure?" He wanted her to be absolutely certain of what he was asking, even though his heart was leaping inside of his chest at the chance that she might move with him after all.

"Absolutely," she nodded resolutely. "Are you?"

"Hell yes!" he cried before crushing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

They spent most of the afternoon planning, discussing and kissing – the latter even more so than the other two – until it was time for both of them to practice what it would be like when they would return to Chicago as Edward had to go into work for his scheduled graveyard shift. He left her on his bed, with a stack of books by her side and with Miles Davis – her choice, for which he loved her even more than he already did– pouring from the sound system, making it even harder for him to tear himself away from her.

But he had to.

Duty called.

And, even more so, he needed to run a few things by Carlisle while the man was still in his office; some propositions he knew his boss was probably not going to like but he had to make anyway.

He'd promised Bella.

On his way over to the hospital, he made a much needed phone call to Carmen, letting him know that when he came back – which hopefully would be sooner than he first thought – he wouldn't be coming alone.

And judging from his former nanny-turned-stepmom's squeals, she was very happy to hear that.

"I knew it," she shrieked. "I knew everything would turn out well between the two of you!"

"Even if an old man had to die to make it happen," Edward answered as the memories of James and how he used to be – intriguing and with a mind unlike any other person's, though it had a dark edge – causing sadness to wash over him. As happy as he was that Isabella – _Bella_ – finally got to stay with him, he regretted it had to be at the cost of a life, even if at one time he'd prayed for the man to hurry back towards his maker.

"How is she?' Carmen asked, her tone more serious now.

"I honestly don't know," Edward admitted. "Today she seemed okay with it but I'm afraid she's hiding her real feelings from me." He sighed, trying to keep his own very conflicted feelings subdued. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he started freaking out now. "I don't know what to do."

"Just be there for her when she needs you," Carmen advised, though even she knew just how little help that advice was to a man who wanted to _act_, not wait. "Maybe she's in shock or maybe she's already accepted what happened and is trying to move on. Who knows? All I do know, from what you've told me about her at least, is that it won't do you any good if you pressure her into opening up when she isn't ready."

She chuckled as she picked up on Edward's deep sigh on the other end of the line. "I know it's hard for you, Edward, but you're going to have to be patient with this. Let Isabella deal with her grief in her own way and come to you when she needs you."

"You should become a therapist," Edward snickered, trying to lighten the mood again. "God knows you're making more sense than the one I'm seeing." His progress in therapy had slowed down again, after his near brush with relapse. He still went to every meeting as he was required but, as much as he tried to allow his shrink to help him, his mind just hadn't been in it. He'd always been too impatient to be elsewhere.

"I was a nanny, Edward," Carmen giggled in a 'my God, I can't believe you're so dense' way. "Anyone who can take care of a growing, spoiled, little kid like you has to be a crisis manager, chef, master entertainer, Olympic athlete _and_ a therapist all-in-one and I happened to be _very_ good at my job."

"You were," Edward admitted, remembering all the happy memories of his childhood. In fact, there were very little happy childhood memories that she wasn't in; his often absent and ever critical parents, having caused more stress than relief on those scarce moments they had graced him with their presence.

_Fuck_. He felt the tension settle in his shoulders as he turned into the hospital parking lot. Soon he would have to face them too. His parents were as much a part of his Chicago life as his job and the family and friends he actually did like. He had a feeling that neither his mother nor his father would be as enthusiastic about the recent developments in his life as Carmen would be. "Anyway," he sighed as the car rolled to a stop in his designated parking space, "I have to go. Talk to you soon?"

"_See_ you soon, hopefully," Carmen answered and, had Edward been able to see her face, he would have known just how happy and relieved she was to be finally be hearing something of the boy she raised – the broody, but very happy young boy – in his voice again. He still had a long way to go on his road to happiness but at least he was going in the right direction again and that was all she could ask off from the man she had grown to love so much.

_Her_ boy; the one she looked upon as if she had given life to him herself.

Edward, meanwhile, wasted no time getting to work, ignoring the not so subtle glances and whispers from patients and medical staff alike as they discussed the passing of 'that weird old guy from up on the mountain' and the fact that 'the even weirder girl he lived with moved in with the Cullens'. It was after all, the hottest piece of gossip the small town had seen ever since Royce King had been arrested.

The first chance Edward got, on a short break in between two scheduled procedures, he rushed over to Carlisle's office, relieved to see the door open and his boss leafing absentmindedly though a file.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked, already closing the door.

"Not if you've got bad news for me," Carlisle joked, closing the file and putting it inside a drawer. "So far my day's been remarkably good. I'd rather not spoil it so close to the end of my shift."

"Why don't I tell you what's on my mind and let you be the judge of whether it's good or bad?" Edward offered, grinning smugly at the sour face his brother-in-law made.

"That's usually the prelude to something I'm not going to like," he groaned, shaking his head before leaning back in his chair, his hands folded behind his graying blond hair. "Alright…let me have it."

Edward took in a deep breath. _This is it_. He phrased his words very carefully as he started to speak, knowing he was asking for a lot. "I know I've got two more weeks to go before I'm supposed to transfer back to Chicago, but I'm wondering-"

"Whether or not Forks General could award you the courtesy of a two week leave," Carlisle finished for him, full out laughing as the face of the man in front of him morphed into a look of utter surprise.

"I'm not a mind reader, Edward, but, in your case, it's so clear what should be happening that I already took the steps yesterday evening when it became clear as to what happened."

"You…already fixed it?" Edward muttered, scratching the back of his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what was going on. He'd expected a fight. Edward had expected Carlisle to tell him he'd already been pretty damn lenient what with the whole Harrison-affair and his near-brush with relapse and all that. He had never expected Carlisle to actually understand…and agree.

"I called St. Mary's Chief of Staff this morning and discussed the possibility of giving you some time to adjust to life in Chicago again, after spending almost half a year in a small town," Carlisle explained, quite proud with himself for what he'd pulled off. "He agreed with me that it would be unwise to throw you into the deep end, as the initial plan would have been, so as of the day after tomorrow, you will be on unpaid leave until your scheduled meeting with the St. Mary's review board."

"Won't that create a problem for you?" Edward asked, still having difficulty believing what he was hearing. "You know, with the surgical schedule?"

"Banner's looking for extra shifts." Carlisle shrugged, playing with the Fountain pen that was lying idly on his desk. "I think he spent a little more than he should have, shopping for a ring for Nurse Beckett. He's more than happy to pick up your shifts for the time being and, as for the long run…" Carlisle shrugged, trying not to appear too enthusiastic, while inside, he was both giddy and slightly apprehensive about the cause of his giddiness.

"Rosalie will be leaving for Los Angeles soon, and after this summer, Jasper's bound for college. I believe it would be a service to your sister and her peace of mind if I went back to being both a hospital administrator and active surgeon instead of hanging around our house, cramping her style."

Edward chuckled as he nodded along. "So it's a done deal basically?"

"Yep." His boss nodded, his eyes narrowing as he took a good look at the man in front of him. "I assume this move was born from Isabella's desire to get the hell out of this place?"

Edward nodded. It had been an important topic of conversation between them, not just from her desire to follow him to Chicago but also her need to get away from Forks as soon as possible. There were just too many bad memories clinging to the town for her.

"Do you know anything about what happened to James? Is he still in the house?"

"I believe Jane is having him transported today," Carlisle answered, his own face mimicking the displeasure on Edward's at the mention of the vile offspring. "She sure isn't wasting any time, that one. Did Isabella mention anything about her contract with James and what she was going to do about it?"

"No." He let out a deep breath, remembering what she'd said to him about it earlier that morning; the recollection of her despair breaking his heart. "But I want to run the whole thing by Peter and see what he thinks."

"Peter? As in Charlotte's husband?" Carlisle looked up in surprise, only having heard the name of Charlotte, the oldest, spoken in scorn by both the Masen children and the name of her husband only added in an afterthought.

"He's an okay guy, as far as anyone who would willingly marry to Charlotte can ever be called that." Edward grimaced as he thought of his older sister whose character was so decidedly different from that of her younger siblings that they were bound to clash violently. "And he's a killer when it comes to these kinds of things. If anyone can help me, he's the one."

"Good luck," Carlisle breathed, knowing both Edward and Isabella would need it. "And if there's anything I can do to help…"

"I think you've done more than your fair share." Edward smiled in gratitude as he offered his boss his hand, not so much in goodbye but in a deep, genuine show of respect from one guy to another. "Thanks, Carlisle. For everything."

"Yeah, yeah," Carlisle shrugged it off, a little uncomfortable under so much flattery. "I'll just let you get back to work, shall I?"

Edward smiled as he nodded, his mind already focused on his next procedure as he made his way back to the ICU for what now appeared to be his second to last day at Forks General.

Throughout his career, Edward had always felt at home in the hospital; feeling like the wards and clean, crisp hallways of the Intensive Care Unit were his true home, but not anymore. Something had shifted, not just that morning or even the day before but long before that. Isabella had turned his world upside down almost from the moment he saw her and, though it scared him, he had never felt so excited to find out what the future had in store for them.

But for that moment, he couldn't wait to go home to her and share his news.

* * *

_**Thoughts? **_


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

** 30. **

_**The beginning.**_

A few days later Edward found himself being held tightly in his sister's arms. "I can't believe you're leaving us already!" Esme sniffed, making no effort to hide her tears as she crushed her brother to her chest with a strength that slightly rattled him. "It seems like it's only been a few weeks since that day when I picked you up at the airport."

He'd looked so different then, she quietly mused. So broken and…gone.

And just look at him now.

She smiled, nuzzling into her brother's hold as she relished in the changes she'd seen happening right in front of her eyes. It had been only a few days since Bella had come to live with them but already Edward seemed so much happier. In fact, he'd been happier than she'd seen him in the past five years.

Isabella was Edward's redemption.

Not therapy, not drugs, not punishment and probation – _she_; a pale, scrawny little thing with eyes made of fire and a tongue as sharp as a knife. His love for her went deep, profound enough for him to want to change and be a better man again – a _whole_ man. For her.

It was a good thing she saw that same desire reflected in Bella's eyes whenever the two of them shared one of those off-in-their-own-little-bubble glances or she would never have given up her precious little brother to her. She would keep him in check, Esme knew as much from what she'd seen over the past couple of days and, at the same time, she'd give him all the love, comfort and care that he so desperately needed.

He would be safe with her, as safe as she felt with him.

She could let him go now.

Meanwhile Edward had the same desire, though for completely different reasons. "Sis, show some mercy?" he wheezed. "You're about to smother me."

"Oops!" she giggled, loosening her hold on him. "I guess all those trips to the gym paid off, huh? That or you're going soft in your old age!"

"I'm not old!" Edward grumbled, his sister having touched a sore subject. "And if I am, then you're geriatric seeing as you have over a _decade_ on me."

"What can I say?" Esme snickered, not about to backtrack on her brother even if it did mean admitting to the fact that she, too, was getting older. "I look damn good for my age."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward grumbled. "Just don't go putting ideas into Bella's head. She's been calling me 'Ned' ever since you first told her about that damn nickname!" It was all in good sport, of course, and he had to admit that sounding like a hushed prayer from Bella's plump, raspberry lips as they made love, it didn't even sound so bad…but he still didn't like it.

"Did I mention how much I like her?" Esme spoke, her laughter still ringing through in her voice before fading out as she turned serious again. "Seriously Edward, I'm so happy you found her. Being in love…it's a look that suits you."

Throughout the past few days she'd gotten to know her brother's new love a little better as she helped Bella get her first bearings around modern living. The look on the girl's face as she'd taken her to Port Angeles to shop for clothes and other necessities had been priceless. It was like she'd just been handed the keys to the Disney castle and told it was her new home.

She was still struggling to adapt to the hectic and crowdedness of the world outside her forest home and often found herself overwhelmed and in need of the peace and quiet of Edward's rooms but Esme had no doubt that, with the right kind of help, she would find her way in the big city.

"Thanks, sis," Edward smiled, dutifully letting her pull him back into her arms as she bid her farewells, the two kisses she pressed to his cheeks mixed with tears that were both happy and sad as the siblings finally stepped away from each other, leaving Esme to throw herself on a very startled looking Bella as Edward moved towards his former boss and brother-in-law.

"Thanks," he spoke, nodding as he shook Carlisle's hand. "For everything. You really stuck your neck out for me when you didn't have to and…and I really appreciate it."

"That's what family is for," Carlisle nodded back, using the leverage of Edward's hand to draw him into an awkward, one-armed, no-groin-areas-going-anywhere-near-each-other hug. "Besides, I imagine we haven't exactly been worse off, having a big shot brain doctor hanging around our premises."

Edward shrugged. "I learned a lot from you guys as well." That was the truth. He might not have learned a lot where it came to the practice of medicine but when it came to combining said practice with being a human being, he'd learned more in the six short months he'd spent in Forks than all his years in Chicago. And he was going to need it, if he was ever going to live up to the kind of man Bella deserved. "Say hi to Maggie and Mark from me?"

"Will do." Carlisle smiled, remembering how forlorn Maggie Molina had looked the day before, when she'd said her goodbye. As much as he knew the relationship between them had been one of violent opposites – motherly love and professional hate for someone who'd all but thrown his education and talent away – he knew she'd miss him like crazy. He knew that because he felt exactly the same way.

As much as Edward had felt reminded of what it was like to be a normal human being and a doctor again, Carlisle had been taught that same lesson. Having Edward around had served as a sort of pressure cooker for all the things in his life that had been wrong; the very things he'd done his best to hide from for as long as they'd existed.

There was no more hiding now and that wasn't just because the disastrous events that had all but destroyed his family had taken care of most of the underlying problems as well. It was because right now he knew that it felt so much better to face your problems head on than to hide from them. He only had to think back on the way Edward had looked when he'd first arrived in Forks and the way he looked now.

He glanced sideways where, surprisingly, his daughter stood, locked in a firm embrace with Bella, something he'd never expected to see in his whole life but, then again, they were both young women who carried severe scars on their souls. Maybe that was what had bonded them in the short period of time they had been thrown together. He chuckled as Rose tried to extort a promise of regular Skype'ing from the other girl, which was answered with a blank stare and a counter promise to write.

He sighed, looking at his little girl. Slowly, but surely, she was starting to bounce back a little again and connect with the world around her, though never in the way she used to. He would have been lying if he said he'd been happy with the kind of person she was before tragedy had stricken but he would still do anything in his power to get that girl back again if it meant never seeing the empty, broken look in his beautiful Rosie's eyes again.

He hoped it would get better once she was in a different environment; an environment his wife, of all people, would have to provide. It made him wonder if maybe it would be a good decision to up and move the whole family someplace else; to a place that wasn't marred by unhappy memories where they could all make a fresh start. Maybe somewhere near Chicago, since it looked like both his son and Emmett, the guy who had become a good and loyal friend to both Jasper and Rosalie and who, if Carlisle's eyes hadn't been deceiving him, might end up as his son-in-law after all if they would manage to make it through the separation, would be starting college the next year.

Carlisle chuckled as he glanced at Edward, thinking once again how much of a coincidence it was that Emmett had been accepted - _early_ no less - into Northwestern's pre-medical program with a full scholarship to boot. As much as Edward had denied it, Carlisle suspected that at least one of the Masen children had had something to do with that. If only he could find out which of the two that was.

Edward, in the meantime, was completely unaware of Carlisle's quiet musings, keeping an eye on Bella at all times, causing him to miss most of what Jasper had been saying until something caught Edward's attention.

"…so I'll be seeing ya, I guess," the kid muttered, his eyes on the ground as he toed the gravel on the driveway while shifting around nervously.

"Huh?" Edward frowned, looking up.

"You know, since I'll be moving to the Windy City this summer?" Jasper, now aware that the speech he and Alice had practiced over the phone hadn't been heard, repeated in a slightly panicked voice.

"You're moving to Chicago?" Edward repeated, trying very hard not to think about the implications this move would have on his sister's state of purity. Her talking to Jasper almost every night had been very fine and dandy as long as the guy still lived on the other side of the country but in light of this new development? Not so much.

"I got accepted into Northwestern along with Emmett," Jasper cautiously explained, "so as long as I graduate with decent grades, I'll be moving up there this summer."

"That's…great." Edward had to use some considerable force to make the words come out at least somewhat enthusiastic. "I'll be able to keep an eye on you then." He had to admit that it felt good when the young man turned slightly pale, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed with some difficulty. "You know, for my sister's sake." He left unspoken just which sister – Esme or Alice – he meant - not that Jasper didn't understand him perfectly though.

As soon as Bella finished whatever crazy experiment had brought her and Rosalie close enough that they looked like besties all of a sudden, his attention shifted back to where it belonged again, his arms wrapping firmly around her slender shoulders as soon as they were free to be embraced again as he dipped down to kiss the top of her head. "So, are you ready to go?"

She looked up at him, the tip of her nose red from being outdoors in the cold for quite a long time and her eyes shining with a mixture of happiness, sadness and slight hypothermia given the coldness of the weather outside as she nodded. "All set."

Their family followed them out to the car, waving and shouting out their final goodbyes as, for the last time, Edward backed out of the Cullens' driveway. He watched them slowly shrink away as he drove off; sad to be leaving such a happy part of his life behind him but also happy to start the next chapter.

"What's on your mind?" Bella's soft voice spoke, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You look like you're miles away from here."

"I am, in a way." He chuckled as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it as he laced their fingers together and rested them on the center console. "What about you? You seemed to be awfully close with Rosalie all of a sudden."

Bella shrugged, though the mysterious smile on her lips told him more than she perhaps intended. "We talked some, while you were off to work, and I'm starting to understand a bit more of where she's coming from." Her face was pensive as she stared out of the window and Edward knew better than to interrupt. "Sometimes I think that in a way we are really alike, though the differences in our lives have made us change to polar opposites."

He nodded, to some extend being able to see where she was going. "You handled things way better than she did though."

Bella merely shrugged. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I mean…" She paused angling her face to look at him, "when we first met, the way I treated you wasn't so very different from the way she acted around most people."

"But you changed," Edward countered, thinking about those days, when the very strong feelings he was already starting to harbor for her were still mixed with a boiling rage.

"And so will she," Bella persisted. "Just give her some time to grow and find out what _she_ wants in life, as opposed to what she thinks people want her to become."

He squeezed her hand, keeping his eyes and his mind on her. "Like you needed time to find out for yourself?"

She nodded, the index finger of her free hand tracing a line over her lips. "I will still need some time every now and then to find my own way."

He knew she was trying to warn him of all the difficulties that still lay ahead; her uncertain future, his further rehabilitation and the hard task of keeping that which had grown between them pure and unspoiled by the outside world. If there was anything he wanted to do, it was the latter.

"I know, love." He nodded, having already thought about this and the way he would just have to deal with it, whether he liked it or not. "I'll give you all the space you need, as long as you'll still talk to me about what's going on in your head and…" He took a deep breath, voicing one of his greatest fears, though in the most veiled way possible. "…and as long as you'll still share my bed at night."

She stared at him until it was impossible for him to ignore her gaze, his eyes only away from the road for the slightest moment but long enough to see the look of pure, unadulterated love in her eyes. "I wouldn't be able to face this world any other way." Her voice was soft but sure, her hand this time squeezing his as she traced his thumb with hers. "We're on this road together."

And that they were, the car purring gently as it crossed another mile in pursuit of their final destination.

In pursuit of happiness.

_**The beginning. **_

* * *

_**Yes, this is definitely not the end, though Edward's journey to Forks ends here and with it, this story. Next week, same time, same day, you will get to see the continuation of Edward and Bella's journey together in the sequel, which will follow Bella as she discovers the world she's been a stranger to for so long as she finds her way around modern life, being a doctor's wife and, most of all, dealing with Edward's crazy family and her own past. **_

_**For now, I want to thank each and every one of you for giving this story a shot. I have loved reading your guesses, comments and thoughts on these chapters or even seeing people adding the story to their alerts and knowing my words were being read. It makes sharing this story such a pleasure. You all rock!**_

_**I also want to take this moment to say an extra thank you to my amazing beta team, Jadsmama and LadySharkey1, for all their amazing advice and words of wisdom. This story wouldn't be the same without you and writing wouldn't be as fun. Luv ya both! **_

_**Sooooooo...see you all next week? **_


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